


to love, to burn

by bri_ness, hippopotamus



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Class Differences, M/M, POV Alternating, Revolution, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-08-07 02:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 51,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16399667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bri_ness/pseuds/bri_ness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippopotamus/pseuds/hippopotamus
Summary: At eighteen, each person chooses whether they will be an intellectual or a lover. Intellectuals are responsible for advancing society; it is illegal for them to enter into  romantic relationships as it would distract from their purpose. Lovers are everyone else: they can be in romantic relationships, but are not trusted with high-level jobs.Isak is an intellectual with no desire to be a lover: he knows the dangers of romance and believes he is too smart for it anyway. Even is a lover who thinks the whole system is bullshit, and as it turns out, Isak's best friend is a bit of a revolutionary....





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We are so excited about this!
> 
> About a week ago, I (bri_ness) had the idea for this fic, and I VERY NERVOUSLY asked Rino (hippopotamus) if they would collab with me...AND THEY SAID YES! I am so, so happy to be working with Rino because their ideas are fantastic, and their writing makes me want to be a better writer. 
> 
> This fic will alternate POVs: I'll write Isak's POV, and Rino will write Even's. We hope you enjoy!

_These violent delights have violent ends,_  
_And in their triumph die; like fire and powder,_  
_Which, as they kiss, consume: the sweetest honey_  
_Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,_  
_And in the taste confounds the appetite:  
_ _Therefore love moderately: long love doth so._

There is something wrong with Isak.

This, he acknowledged when he was thirteen—the same age as Juliet. He finds thrill in cautionary tales, poetry in descriptions of violent delights, loathsome deliciousness. It’s a spark in his gut, a charge through his body that could fry his heart if he’s not careful.

He is careful, though. He became careful once he witnessed a violent end because there was nothing fucking romantic about that.

Still, he feels guilty as he listens to the passage for the tingle underneath his skin. _Feelings aren’t actions_ , he reminds himself. _You’d never do this. You know not to fall in love. You can’t._

 _You’re too important for that_. 

Despite his high ranking in high school, Isak is quiet in his first university class. In high school, he was among potential lovers and intellectuals: less competition. Now, it’s all intellectuals, and he’s intimidated. Especially in a class about love, where his feelings don’t always align with what he knows to be true. 

However, Isak gets more confident as the discussion gets more predictable. _Romeo and Juliet_ is the quintessential example of the danger of romantic love.

“Of course it feels good,” one student says. “Why else did we spend time in closets and parked cars in high school?”

This earns a laugh from the class that Isak realizes too late he should have participated in. Though, it would have been disingenuous: he was too focused for that in high school, and he’s annoyed his peers were different.

“But,” they continue. “We all stopped for a reason.”

“Because we’re not stupid,” another chimes in.

“Let’s not call all lovers stupid,” someone else says, the token woke intellectual. Isak rolls his eyes: everyone sees through it. “It’s in the text: _therefore love moderately, long love doth so._ As long as people are smart enough to do that, they won’t have the same fate as Romeo and Juliet.”

“If they’re smart enough to love moderately,” the professor interjects. “Shouldn’t they be an intellectual?”

Isak finds himself nodding. After witnessing his parents’ doomed relationship, there was no fucking way he’d be a lover like them, but since he did so well in school, he was encouraged to be an intellectual anyway.

Intellectuals make meaningful, life-altering contributions to society. They invent, everything from accessible transportation to communication technology. They understand the earth and use that knowledge to care for it, fighting the longstanding effects of climate change. And, as Isak plans to do as a doctor, they save lives. They cannot be distracted, and therefore, it is illegal for them to be in romantic relationships.

If you are smart enough to be an intellectual, it’s unethical to choose anything else. A kiss may be as sweet as honey, but as Shakespeare knew, the taste turns bitter.

“Ah, but then who could call you out on your condescension?”

Isak swivels in his chair, finding the voice came from the boy behind him. The kind of boy who, when Isak takes in his blue eyes and confident grin, gives him that tingle underneath his skin.

Which means he needs to check in with himself again. _Attraction is normal, even for intellectuals. Just don’t fucking act on it, which you won’t. You know you don’t want that._

“There’s always one,” the professor murmurs. “Name and status?”

“Even Bech Næsheim,” he says. “And I just became a platinum member at my bank, which is definitely a scam, but what can you do? Those intellectuals are just so _smart_ : I have to abide by their system.”

Isak snorts, and when Even catches his eye, he realizes he’s still staring. He turns back around to face the professor, who is not impressed.

“You’re a lover,” she says.

“What gave me away?”

If Isak was charmed before, _if_ , he’s annoyed now. Lovers are allowed to attend university, but most don’t since they end up working in trades anyway. They don’t need an education beyond their job training, and when they end up at university, they take resources away from those who do.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll have an interesting take on the text,” the professor says. “Go on. Lovers are usually my most talkative students.”

“I just think you’ve wildly missed the point,” Even says. Isak turns back around to look again because there’s a confidence in his voice that’s...not _attractive_ , but magnetic, and Isak’s willing to believe those are different things. “ _Romeo and Juliet_ is not a story about how destructive love is. In fact, love was the only thing stronger than the feud between the Montagues and the Capulets.”

“You must not have read all the way until the end when they both die,” a voice from the back of the class says. “Too complex?”

It’s followed by snickers, but again, Isak doesn’t join in. He never seems to laugh when others do.

“And you must have skipped the prologue,” Even says, then clears his throat. “' _From forth the fatal loins of these two foes/A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;/ Whose misadventured piteous overthrows/Do with their death bury their parents' strife.'_ Love _ended_ the divide.”

“What is your point, Even?” the professor asks. “Since you believe we’ve wildly missed it. Are you saying that love is valuable because, if some teenagers die from it, adults might learn a lesson?”

“No. I’m saying that if we’re all open to love, _all_ kinds of love, maybe we’ll learn our lesson before anyone else dies.”

“Anyone else?” Isak repeats. “You know these aren’t real people, right?”

“They’re not, but what about the intellectuals who commit suicide because they don’t want to live if they can’t be in love? Or they fall in love and feel so fucking guilty about it, they believe that’s their only option?”

“No one’s forced to be an intellectual,” Isak says. “You choose what you want to be.”

Even laughs. “Right, how much of a choice do people really have? If you do well in school, you’re a bad person if you choose to be a lover. If people don’t think you’re smart enough to be an intellectual? You’re a societal risk. And fuck, if you _do_ choose to be a lover, you know what else you’re choosing? Constantly being belittled. You’re eighteen fucking years old: you’re too young to make that choice. You should never have to make that choice.”

There’s an immediate silence and undeniable tension in the room.

“Even,” the professor says. “I suggest you consider the bias in any revolutionary literature you read before you bring those ideas into my classroom.”

“I suggest you do the same with your literature that says _Romeo and Juliet_ is about melodramatic lovers. Professor.”

“If you are going to be here, you are going to respect me here,” she says. “Let’s move on, shall we? Someone brought up ‘moderate love,’ do we believe any lovers are truly capable of that?”

“You’re staring,” Even whispers, and Isak startles. He forgot to turn around again. “I’ll get used to that here, I guess. Especially from cute guys--”

Isak bristles. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a lover.”

Something changes in Even’s demeanor, the defense he had up the moment he spoke going down, just a little. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.”

“That’s the first time I’ve heard an intellectual define themselves as ‘not a lover.’ You hate us that much?”

“I don’t hate you,” Isak says, and that’s true. His best friend is a lover, though he could have been an intellectual. It’s a choice he’s still trying to understand. “It’s just not for me.”

“Why?”

Well, because Isak’s understanding of being a lover is his mom sobbing in the driveway, not even in the house, _in the fucking driveway_ , while his dad walked away from her.

From them.

“Even, if you pay attention, you may learn something,” the professor says.

“That’s why I’ve opted for distraction,” Even says.

Isak’s grateful for the interference.

\---

“I’m just saying, don’t you think it’s fucked up? It’s fine for us to sit here and drink coffee, or play FIFA, or do fuck all together, but if I were to kiss you during any of that? We go to jail.”

Isak raises his eyebrows at Jonas. “If you wanted to kiss me, you should’ve done it in high school.”

Sitting with Jonas in the cafeteria, Isak feels the most comfortable he has since he got to university. Though their conversation could be construed as flirtatious, Isak knows Jonas, so he knows it’s safe. He did not have that luxury when Even called him cute.

Which--why would Even call him cute? Isak assumed it was to get a rise since that’s kind of Even’s thing, but he was genuinely sorry that it made Isak uncomfortable. Fuck, it’s almost worse if he was sincere--

“That’s not the point,” Jonas says, and that reminds Isak of Even too. “Parents love their kids. Friends love each other. All of that’s fine, but romantic love? Can’t risk your brain for that. What fucking bullshit.”

Isak sighs as he leans back in his chair. He’s been friends with Jonas since they were ten, best friends, and Jonas was supposed to be an intellectual like him. His parents are policy analysts, instrumental in determining how society functions. And Jonas was going to follow the same path, until--

“Hold on,” Jonas says. “Eva’s texting me.”

Until her. Eva’s parents worked with Jonas’s, and they were determined to set them up as intellectual partners. Intellectual partners are, of course, not romantic partners: it’s a business transaction. Through their partnership, they gain prestige and wealth, and they have children together. 

Isak could choose that path and adopt with a partner, but he’d rather not: he’s heard too many stories of intellectual partners who turn romantic and get arrested for it. He doesn’t quite trust his feelings enough to tow that line.

Not only did Jonas and Eva develop feelings for each other, though they both insist it’s only friendship now, Eva just wasn’t cut out to be an intellectual. She never did well in school, and all her aptitude tests suggested she was better suited to be a lover anyway.

For most people, that’s fine: they choose to be a lover, and they’re satisfied. With Eva’s parents, it put a pressure on her that was uncomfortable for Isak to watch, but unacceptable to Jonas.

That’s when Isak started getting late night texts with links to revolutionary blogs. _Why is this even a thing?_ Jonas would ask. _Why do we subscribe to it when it hurts so many people_?

Isak never quite knew how to respond to that. The system hurts people, fine, but how many more people does love hurt? He’d rather avoid it and be a good, productive person. The system allows him to do that.

Jonas, who was always going to be an intellectual, chose to be a lover just to say _fuck you_ to the system. Eva chose the same, and now they’re both wannabe-revolutionaries who won’t talk to their parents.

It’s created a rift in their friendship. Isak does not believe that Jonas is bad person for his decision, he’s helped him through too much shit for that, but it does frustrate him. Jonas is wasting how smart he is, and in ten years, Isak suspects he’ll regret making a decision based off teenage hormones--as many lovers do.

“Are you like this in your classes?” Isak asks when Jonas puts his phone down.

“Like what?”

“It’s just there was this guy in my love class who monopolized the discussion with his revolutionary ideas. It wasn’t fair to the people actually there to learn.”

“So his ideas are less valuable than yours?”

“He’s a lover.”

“Then are my ideas less valuable than yours?”

Isak rolls his eyes. “You’re different. You should’ve been an intellectual anyway, so you being here feels...right, I guess. Even though you’ll be too busy with Eva to actually use what you learn--”

“I’m not in love with Eva.”

“Right.”

“And what about her? She was never going to be an intellectual, so are her ideas less valuable than yours?”

Isak probably should hesitate, but he doesn’t.

“Yes.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole sometimes.”

“I’m not saying _she’s_ less valuable, but if we’re talking about which ideas will improve society--”

“I think everyone loving each other without a fucking ‘status’ will improve society.”

“And I think that’s too dangerous. You saw what love did to my parents.”

Jonas is too stubborn to give up, Isak knows that, but he does back off as he turns back to his phone. “To answer your question,” Jonas says as he texts. “I’m not like this in my classes. I’m trying to keep a low profile.”

Isak’s own phone beeps with a text from Jonas:

 _Wednesday at 8:00PM  
_ _Study Room B, East Library_

“What the fuck?” Isak says.

“I’m not putting that I want to have a revolutionary meeting in a text. You know our phones are tapped.”

“Jonas--”

“I think we can change things. If we convince the people in charge that the system is bullshit, that it hurts more than it helps--”

“I don’t believe that.”

Jonas sighs. “I know. But ok, remember everything I helped you with after your dad left? Coming over, cooking, cleaning? You owe me.”

“Kind of a dick move to hold that against me.”

“You’ve been a dick since you officially became an intellectual, so consider us even.”

Without a romantic relationship, Isak’s friendship with Jonas is likely to be the most significant relationship he has in his life. He can’t risk losing that, and he’s already wary of how close he is to Eva--especially since they have the freedom of both being lovers.

“One meeting,” Isak says. “I’ll listen, but don’t expect me to like, participate and shit.”

“At this point, I’d rather you didn’t.”

Isak laughs, creating some ease in his relationship with Jonas again. There’s part of him that wants to go back to high school, before either of them chose their status: it was just easier then.

Maybe he will get something from this meeting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello it me, rino  
> i gotta say a huge thanks to bri for letting me be in on this!!!! i'm so honoured to be asked to collab and its been so fun already :D  
> i hope u guys like this chapter (although bri's first chapter is a tough act to follow :P)  
> enjoy!

Even’s never really been sure if there’s something wrong with him.

He knows he’s strange, sure of himself where he shouldn’t be, and not when he should. He knows people glare at him because he’s here, at uni, somewhere that someone like him shouldn’t be. And he knows he only makes it worse with his ideas about love and everything else that no one here wants to talk about.

The minute that the professor calls the end of class, Even sighs, breathing all his confidence out with it. He feels every eye in the room turn to him, maybe to see if he’ll sprout wings and fly out of the room - after all, that’s clearly how these mythical creatures that they call lovers get around university.

It’s what he wants to say to them, but the sting of the glares from around the room feels a lot sharper than it did when he was showing off in class. Now that he’s come down from that high, it’s difficult to get back up. He doesn’t feel like he’s won - and he hasn’t. He hasn’t changed any minds, or found any refuge in anyone else in the class. They’re all intellectuals, which, according to them, is how it should be. Never mind that Even’s grades are higher than half of theirs. He doesn’t need the grades, or the education, according to them. He’s just a lover.

There’s nothing Even hates more than bowing his head, but it’s what he does now, in order to safely escape the room, pulling his jacket around him tight and taking the cigarettes from the pocket. He catches a glance from the boy in front of him, the boy who spoke to him, starting out as poisonous as the rest of them, but faltering as they talked more. Even doesn’t know if the boy was telling the truth with “I don’t hate you,” and by all accounts, it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter whether he wants to try and reason with the boy. It shouldn’t matter that he never got to explain why love “wasn’t for him.” Even shouldn’t want to know why anyway.

His mind is betraying him with intrigue. It betrays him a lot, all things considered. It betrays him with confidence and obsession and addiction - sometimes it feels like it betrays him with every move he makes. But he’s never really been sure if that means there’s something wrong with him. He doesn't think it’s right to trust anyone else’s opinions about it, seeing as they think love has no purpose in society, and Even knows that to be false.

He knows love has a purpose.  It’s a purpose he can’t define, but it exists nonetheless. For as long as he can remember, he and Mikael would sneak around, finding underground showings of banned films, and listening to “illegal” music. All of it about love, all of it warm and hopeful, making Even’s heart swell in his chest, making him fall in love for the first time in the arms of his childhood friend.

Mikael’s family were all lovers, Mikael was always going to follow them. Even wanted to follow too, even if it wasn’t with Mikael, even if his own parents disapproved.

He still talks to Mikael sometimes. Still remembers his first kiss with a fond smile, as he puts a cigarette where Mikael’s lips had once been. It doesn’t matter to him that it wasn’t meant to last, because in a way, it did. It lasted in the memories and in the way Even feels about love now, despite everyone in the world pushing against him.

Despite everything, he wants to fall in love again. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with him, and maybe it’s not.

“You shouldn’t draw so much attention to yourself.”

His absent minded thought is interrupted by one of the others in the class with him, and his heart sinks at the prospect of an argument, of having to defend his right to be here, and to love, and to have opinions.

“I wanted to back you up,” continues the boy, to Evens surprise - and relief. “But I barely got into uni in the first place. I don’t want to give them a reason to kick me out.”

“Why would they kick you out for that?” Even asks. “It’s not against the rules.”

“Trust me, man. My mum almost got kicked out of uni for the same thing. If they don't like you, if you don’t fit in and meekly bow your head in subservience to our intellectual overlords, they’ll find any excuse to throw you.”

Even half laughs at this in confusion. He takes the cigarette from his lips, holds it in one hand and offers his other hand to the boy to shake.

“I’m Even,” he says.

“Magnus.”

“Well, Magnus,” Even says, considering him. “How do you suggest we change anything if we do exactly what they want?”

Magnus gives a sly smile. “There are ways,” he says.

“Which are…?”

“Oh, shit,” Magnus mutters, as if he’s just remembered something. “I was supposed to ask - I mean, uh.” he trails off, and Even raises an eyebrow. “Listen, you seem really cool,” Magnus continues. “But you know how the government is watching us all the time?” He waits for Even to give an uncertain nod. “Well, I can’t really tell you anything until I’ve cleared it with Jo- shit, I mean - my friend.”

Even laughs. “No worries,” he says. “It’s nice to know someone agrees with me at least.”

“Yeah, man,” Magnus says, then hesitated for a moment. “I, uh, have to go but I’ll see you around?”

Even nods. “See you around.”

As much as it’s a relief to have someone on his side, it’s nicer to be alone again. His thoughts were interrupted, but it’s never hard for Even to find them again. He raises the cigarette back to his lips, and tips his head back against the wall, looking up at the sky in hopes that the answers are all up there somewhere.

He wonders if intellectuals get so easily lost in their imaginations - and then wonders how it is that the distinction between him and them has come so easy, when it wasn’t so long ago that they were the same, that they were all just kids. And there still isn’t, really. Aside from the ID in his back pocket that declares what he is, there’s no real difference. None of it is real - but although Even fights that point outwardly, it becomes more and more ingrained into him that there is a fundamental difference between him and them.  

There are people who can and should feel love, and people who don’t and shouldn’t.

But there is not a single person - not the professor, not the leaders of society, not the boy in front of him, whether he did or didn’t hate him - not one of them doesn’t deserve the chance to love.

The idea is so powerful in Evens mind that it makes him breathe louder, tense his shoulders, curl the fingers of his free hand into a fist, as if there were someone in front of him, arguing the point right now.

 

*

 

He’s possibly playing a little too much into their ideas of what all lovers are like by smoking after every class.

Still, he needs the release. At least while he adjusts. While he gets used to the stares and the whispers and the rumours. He needs to be able to control his breath and what exactly it is that he takes into his lungs - poison, yes, but on his own terms.

Even has taken in a lot of poison over the course of his life, but then, it depends how poison is defined. It depends whether he should follow the intellectuals lead and declare love as a poison. It depends whether he should follow the law and declare all the music from his childhood a poison. It depends whether the medicines they bombarded him with after his episode are poison.

None of it’s killed him yet, though. Small victories.

“Hey, are you Even?”

He stops halfway through inhaling more poison to look up at who spoke. Whoever it is- he doesn’t recognise them - isn’t giving him a poisonous look, at least, so he relaxes and exhales.

“Yep,” he answers. “Who’s asking?”

The boy above him grins, and takes it as an invitation to sit down beside Even on the bench. “I’m Jonas. Magnus told me about you.”

Even nods, understanding now. “You’re the friend that he had to clear it with before telling me about any of your revolutionary activities?”

Jonas laughs. “That’s me. Sorry about Magnus, he can be a bit-”

“He’s fine,” Even says. Then mutters “better than anyone else in that class.”

“Yeah,” says Jonas, after a pause that feels slightly off, but Even doesn’t dwell on it. “Intellectuals can get pretty unbearable, especially when they’re being taught a class that validates their bullshit views through yet more bullshit.”

Even smiles genuinely, possibly for the first time since he arrived at uni. “So are you here to tell me I’m allowed to join your secret revolution, or whatever it was that Magnus was trying not to tell me about?”

“Pretty much,” says Jonas. “We’re having a meeting, next wednesday. You’re welcome to join.”

Even would love to believe it was as easy as that. “What good will it do?”

To his surprise, Jonas doesn’t falter in the slightest. “The government is unstable. If we even threaten them with civil unrest, they’ll buckle under the pressure, and I already know of hundreds of people across the country willing to stand with us.”

“And how do you know that about the government?”

“Oh, you know. Spies in high up places.”

Even just raises an eyebrow, and Jonas does the same in a challenge, then smirks and explains.

“Okay, my parents were - are - might be, I’d know if I still spoke to them. Anyway, they work for the government. I might have sneaked into their office a couple of times. Shit’s held together by a thread, and it’s a crap thread, so,” he shrugs. “Revolution. Wanna join?”

Even doesn’t hesitate. “Why the fuck not?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, happy Halloween! Rino and I have loved seeing the excitement for this fic, and we hope you'll continue to enjoy! :)

Isak feels better as he settles into his classes.

Sure, there are the mandatory classes like love where he feels awkward, but his science electives are boosting his ego. Surrounded by intellectuals, he learns exactly how the world works, and those feelings he worries about suddenly become irrelevant. Everything’s a formula: the better he understands it, the better he can make life for everyone else.

It bothers Isak, when people call intellectuals heartless. He is just trying to help people, as is his duty. How the fuck does that make him the bad guy?

And he’s not, he knows he’s not: not to his peers, not to his professors, not to the government, not to everyone who understands the system _works_.

If only that included Jonas.

That bothers Isak the most: how could he and Jonas grow up together and reach such different conclusions? Most of him believes that it’s Eva’s fault, but feeling the tension in his relationship with Jonas now—well, maybe Jonas has some kind of point. But even then, it’s not the system that divides people: it’s the people themselves, so fuck, _that’s_ what he needs to make Jonas understand. They don’t need a revolution. They just need a world where people are fucking decent to each other.

Satisfied with his own conclusion, that even Jonas can’t say makes him sound like a dick, Isak walks into the library with the confidence he found in his science classes. Everyone in this meeting will be like Jonas and Eva, good and well-meaning, but they’re just not intellectuals like Isak. They don’t understand things the way he does, so it’s on him to explain it to them. That’s fine: that’s what he chose.

Inside the library, Isak finds Eva waiting outside the study room’s door. He hasn’t seen her since graduation, despite her texts and Jonas’s invitations for three of them to hang out. It’s not that he dislikes her, but he didn’t want to waste his energy on a casual friendship like theirs was. The law doesn’t restrict friendships because it would be impossible to enforce, but most intellectual scholars believe it’s best to be selective with them, claiming they can be even more draining and destructive than romantic relationships. Isak tends to agree: he’s already neglecting his studies for his friendship with Jonas, but it’s only because if he lost him, well—

He’d be completely alone.

Some intellectuals thrive like that, but much to Isak’s frustration, he has too many feelings for that. He hopes one day he’ll be like his role models, secure enough to focus solely on improving the world without worrying about how he’ll survive the fucking day.

Eva greets Isak with a smile they both know she doesn’t owe him. “Hey,” she says. “Jonas thought you might bail.”

“I wouldn’t do that to him.”

“Just me, then.”

She tilts her head like it’s a challenge, and with Eva, Isak knows it is. As he’s seen many times in her relationship with Jonas, she is not afraid to fight.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Things have been—”

“Oh my God, please do not tell me how busy you were over the summer. I’ve heard that from like, ten different people, and I know they’re all lying.”

Isak doesn’t know how to respond because their relationship isn’t worth the effort of an argument. And maybe Eva agrees because, after an extended awkward silence, she says, “I’ve just missed you. Fuck, I feel like I only talk to Jonas now, and there’s only so much talk of ‘social revolution’ I can stand. It’s like listening to a never-ending loop of political podcasts—not even the good ones!”

Isak laughs, somewhat out of surprise. He thought Eva was all in on this revolution stuff too, but then again, his source for her is Jonas.

Glancing through the study room’s window, Isak notices that it’s empty. “Is there a reason we’re not going in?” he asks, gesturing towards the door.

Eva blushes. “You need to swipe your student ID.”

And, oh. Of course. Isak does just that, and Eva rambles as he holds the door open for her. “I didn’t realize you needed a student ID to get in the library. I waited for someone to leave and like, bolted through the door. Sorry in advance if I blow our cover as the rogue uneducated lover.”

Isak didn’t mean to make her feel bad. Eva never wanted to go to university anyway, so he didn’t expect her to have any insecurity over meeting here. Jonas must not have either.

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

Jonas comes in as they’re sitting down, and Isak’s instantly annoyed that he didn’t arrive sooner. He could have spared Isak this whole awkward interaction with Eva, including the weight it’s created in his stomach.

“Good, you’re both here,” Jonas says. “We’re just waiting on two more.”

" _Two_?” Eva echoes, and Jonas nods. “Wow _._ The government’s going to fold once they see the size of us!”

Jonas rolls his eyes. “We’ll get numbers once word spreads.”

“But isn’t this like, top-secret?” Isak asks.

“Only to the people who can’t know about it.” Isak and Eva stare at him. “Look, it’s better to create a plan with a small team, then we can start recruiting. Trust me.”

“Hell yeah, who’s ready for a revolution?!”

Isak looks up at the new voice: it’s actually a guy he recognizes from his love class. Eva bangs her head on the table as Jonas quickly gets up to shut the door behind him.

“Maybe don’t… _yell_ that we’re planning a revolution,” Jonas says, clapping his shoulder. _Since when is Jonas is making new friends?_   “Guys, this is Magnus. Magnus, this is Isak and Eva.”

“Sorry, it’s just exciting,” Magnus says as he and Jonas sit down. “What a fucking relief not to be surrounded by intellectuals, watching everything I say—”

Jonas clears his throat to interrupt him. “Isak’s, uh, an intellectual.”

Despite Jonas’s introduction, Magnus seems to notice Isak for the first time, doing a double-take. “You’re in my love class.”

“Yeah,” Isak says.

“Surprised to see you here, man.”

Isak’s annoyed, still, because this is supposed to be where he belongs. He’s at university, he’s with Jonas, yet he’s always the fucking outsider.

“I’m surprised to see this many lovers at university.”

“Dude, don’t be a dick,” Jonas says.

“I mean, if you hate being around intellectuals so much,” Isak continues. “You don’t have to be. No one’s asked you to come here, and honestly, no one wants—”

Isak’s cut off by the door opening, revealing another familiar face.

Of fucking course he’d be here. Isak should’ve known.

“Hey, sorry I’m late…,” Even says, voice trailing off when he sees Isak. “ _You're_ here?"

“Apparently,” Isak mumbles.

“You guys know each other?” Jonas asks.

Isak tries to tell Jonas with only a look that _this is the obnoxious guy in my class I told you about!_ , while Even says, “We’re in the same love class.”

“Wow, you guys could’ve had this meeting in that class,” Eva says.

“I tried, actually,” Even says, glancing towards Isak as he sits down. “But I didn’t find much support for my ideas there. I’m Even, by the way: I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

“Eva, and you won’t. I don’t actually go here, but I’m Jonas’s friend and therefore an accomplice in all his plots. If I could go back to middle school, I’d be a lot meaner to him.”

“You _were_ mean to me,” Jonas says. “Worse than you are now.”

“Well you were and are an idiot, so you always deserve it.”

They smile at each other, and Isak’s just tired. Is this really the love they’re fighting for? It’s flirting, that’s all. It’s definitely not worth sacrificing their futures for.

“Alright, can we get started?” Magnus says. “I’m so fucking keen for this. We could actually change things, you know? What do we do first?”

Everyone turns towards Jonas, who hesitates.

“I haven’t exactly gotten that far,” he says. Isak catches Eva rolling her eyes. “What do you guys think?”

“You told me the government’s unstable, right?” Even says. “In what ways? How can we exploit that?”

Eva snorts. “ _Unstable_? Seriously, Jonas?”

“Not everyone agrees with each other,” he says. “I’ve shown you the notes on the policies our parents work on—”

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you work with other people! People disagree! Fucking hell Jonas, some of those notes were from interns. Do you think they have any say over the final version?”

“All I’m saying is we know there’s dissent.”

“No, you’re making these guys think we have a better chance than we do,” Eva says, gesturing to Magnus and Even. “I want things to change more than anyone, but honestly, we’re pretty powerless here.”

“As five, maybe,” Even says. “But Jonas, you said we could get hundreds of people protesting with us—”

“ _Hundreds_?” Eva repeats. “What the fuck? You don’t even know fifty people.”

“Online—” Jonas protests, but Eva cuts him off.

“People will say anything online. It doesn’t mean they’ll stand with you. I’m sorry, but we’ve got to be realistic about this.”

Isak sees his opportunity to help.

“We don’t need to be this fucking dramatic,” Isak says. “Protests and shit, Eva’s right: that won’t go anywhere because most people understand that the system works. It fails when people are assholes about it. If lovers and intellectuals can understand their roles and respect each other—”

“Wait, what the fuck?” Magnus says. “This is coming from the guy who doesn’t think lovers should be at university?”

“That’s what I mean about understanding your role. It’s fine if you just want to learn, but when you start affecting intellectuals’ education—”

“Do you hear yourself right now? Do you actually not realize that you’re being an asshole?”

“No, that’s the problem, you guys are assuming all intellectuals are assholes. We’re not. We just take our responsibilities seriously, so when lovers interfere with that, it’s fucking annoying.”

“What are you actually proposing, Isak?” Eva asks. “What’s your grand idea here?”

“If there’s more education about lovers’ and intellectuals’ roles, we can respect ourselves and each other better. That’ll help with all the bullshit.”

“No,” Even says. “That’ll strengthen the divide. We’ll become the Montagues and Capulets.”

“Then fall in love with an intellectual, die of melodrama, and end the divide if that’s what you believe. Fuck.”

The room’s quiet. Isak’s pissed that his friends aren’t backing him up.

“Why is he even here?” Magnus asks Jonas, who hesitates for longer than Isak’s comfortable with.

“Yeah, Isak,” Jonas says. “Maybe you should go.”

“Seriously?” Isak says.

“It’s on me. You didn’t want to come anyway. Fuck Isak, I thought maybe you wouldn’t be an asshole this time, that you’d at least keep an open mind. But you’re not like that anymore.”

Isak was already pissed, but now he feels the anger underneath his skin, where all his uncomfortable feelings live. _He’s_ not keeping an open mind? What about Jonas? None of them will even hear him out, even though he’s the intellectual, and he’s just trying to fucking help—

He leaves before he says anything else he’ll regret.

\---

Isak doesn’t want to go home.

He still lives with her mom to help her out. She’s doing ok right now, and he loves her, but man. It is fucking depressing to think of what her life could’ve been if she’d never met his dad. She was smart, _is_ smart, but she gave up an intellectual’s life for the kind of guy who’d buy her flowers, but refuse to water them.

Isak has choice adjectives for his dad: lazy, cowardly, _asshole_ , but he kind of blames his mom too. How could she fall for that instead of listening to what society told her? If she’d done what she was supposed to, it could’ve saved her what she describes as heartbreak, but Isak witnessed as devastation.

It could’ve saved Isak from it, too.

And that’s what really pisses Isak off: how can Jonas not see that? He was right there when everything went to shit, he knows what love can do not only to the people not meant for it, but also to everyone around them. It’s an earthquake, and the aftershocks are still rattling Isak.

So, Isak doesn’t go home. He stands outside the library, leaning against the building, curling his fingers in and out of a fist. He’s just so angry, all the time now, and he has nothing to do with it.

“Come on, that’s not fair.”

Isak’s tired of startling at the same voice, but there is something about its depth and warmth, something about Even, that jolts him.

“What?” Isak asks.

“Standing outside, alone, looking like that?” Isak tenses, and Even shakes his head. “Relax, I’m not hitting on you. I meant you look sad, and now I have to talk to you because I’m not an asshole, even if you might be one.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “So I’m your good deed for the day?”

“Year, actually. It’s taking a lot of effort.”

Despite himself, Isak cracks a smile. Even returns it, and his smile has the same depth and warmth as his voice. It’s the aftershock of the initial jot, but it’s not the kind Isak’s used to.

He can’t continue this conversation.

“I’m fine, though,” Isak says. At Even’s raised eyebrows, he continues, “Really. I shouldn’t have come tonight.”

“Yeah, about that,” Even says. “Even if you weren’t lying about being fine, I can’t pretend I’m talking to you for entirely selfless reasons.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t figure you out. With our conversation in class, and you being at this meeting…what do you actually believe?”

“Did I not make it clear in there?” Isak asks, gesturing towards the library.

“Oh no, you did,” Even says. “But the fact is you were still at a meeting to stage a revolution—well, apparently it was to vaguely discuss the concept of a revolution, but same idea.”

“Jonas is my friend. That’s the only reason I was there.”

“He said that. And he wouldn’t tell us anything else about you or let us talk shit about you, so if you’re thinking you don’t have friends, you’re wrong.”

That weight in Isak’s stomach after his conversation with Eva is still there, though it’s heavier now.

“I get that things aren’t perfect,” Isak says. “I fucking hate that things are different with Jonas now. Eva, too. And I don’t think people in class should laugh when you talk.”

“Because you believe I shouldn’t be class at all,” Even says.

“Yeah, but wouldn’t you be happier that way too?” Isak asks. “You don’t have to go through all this shit. You can just fall in love and focus on that. Isn’t that what you want?”

Even hesitates, considering that. “Have you ever been in love, Isak?”

Isak shakes his head.

“Hm, ok. For me, it didn’t change who I was. It just made that person better.”

Growing up, Isak didn’t hear many successful love stories. His curiosity gets the better of him, as it often does, and that often gets him into trouble.

“What do you mean?”

“I had this person who knew me, and liked me, so I got the confidence to lean into who I really am. And, believe it or not, I’m smart. Probably smarter than you, actually.” Even grins, and Isak rolls his eyes. “All the good things I would’ve done as an intellectual, I can still do as a lover. Having someone behind me, someone who loves me, only helps me do that. It gives me strength.”

Isak’s defenses go up. “So you think you need a romantic partner to be successful? Because intellectuals aren’t weak—"

“No, of course not. It’s just nice to have someone support you. It helped me, anyway.”

Isak thinks Even’s redacted a few crucial pages from his story.

“Are you still with them?” Isak asks. “This person you were in love with?”

“No.”

“So what did that do to you?”

“Well, I lost half of my budget to ice-cream.” Even laughs at his own joke, but Isak’s not feeling that gracious. “Right, you hate humour. It sucked, obviously, but I’m fine. I survived it. Sometimes you’re only meant to be with someone for a specific time in your life, you know? I’m just excited to meet the next person I’ll get to love.”

“It doesn’t work that way for everyone,” Isak says. “Heartbreak fucking kills people.”

“Being an intellectual doesn’t make you immune from heartbreak.”

But it’s another defence against it.

“Anyway, my case isn’t that everyone should be lovers,” Even says. “If you don’t want that, that’s fine, but don't you think everyone should at least have a chance at love? Just like I should have the chance to be, I don’t know, a fucking astronaut if I want to be. Who cares if I’m dating someone if I go to the moon? It just means I’ll get a hell of a welcome home party.”

Isak imagines a great career for himself, saving the lives of others’ loved ones. He’s never imagined coming home after that. He doesn’t like to.

He was supposed to end this conversation a long time ago.

“I should go,” Isak says. “My bus is coming, so.”

“I feel like I didn’t make you feel any better.”

“It’s fine.”

And it really is: how Isak feels doesn’t matter. He knows he can’t trust his feelings, so ok, he has work to do. Forget his anger, forget his sadness, forget the other feelings he doesn’t want to name, and focus on school.

Focus on his purpose.  


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **finger guns** you guys are SICK thanks for all the love!! enjoy!!

Even sort of feels like everyone is settling into classes but him.

Sure, he learns the routine. Works out where things are and who everyone is - but he doesn’t settle. The uncertainty inside him doesn’t disappear as he starts to understand things more. He feels out of place and unwelcome - and that’s exactly what they want. He was never welcome here. Never will be, if things don’t change. 

It’s love class that he dreads the most. The class where everyone has an excuse to stare at him without even trying to hide their disgust at his being there - at least that’s how it feels.

After the disaster of the first class, however much his hands curl into fists under the table at what he hears, he resolves to stay quiet. He resolves to pay no attention to what the professor is trying to teach, and get lost in his own thoughts instead. He’s good at that. 

He’s not so good at forcing his mind away from the person sitting in front of him. Forcing himself away from the conversation they had had the night before

It occurs to Even that Isak cares, far more than he should, for someone like him. Far more than he wants to. And then it occurs to him that actually, maybe he doesn’t. Even doesn’t know him well enough to know how he feels - or doesn’t feel. But the way that he left so rapidly, after Even mentioned going home to someone - it just makes him think… something. Something that he shouldn’t be thinking. 

He tunes back into the professor’s talk on fairy tales. The violent, doomed love stories, and the watered-down versions that became popular afterwards.

“The versions of these stories that had happy endings became popular,” says the professor. “Versions of the little mermaid that would have readers believe that the mermaid ended up “happily ever after” along with her prince, instead of turning to seafoam, eternally tormented by heartbreak.

“These versions became so popular that “believing in fairy tales” was a common way of saying that someone believed everything would turn out all right. It took the reform of society to remind people of the original fairy tales, and of how dangerous love can be. Now, does anyone have any idea why the new versions were popularised?”

“So that they wouldn’t scare the kids,” says one person.

“To sell them easier,” says another. “people like to lie to themselves, so by making life seem easier in fiction, they sell an ideology that's easier to hear.”

“Good suggestions,” says the professor. “To sell them is probably the closest to the truth. Before we understood the threat that love poses to us as a society, love and money were the two main motivations for doing just about anything. And it is true that falling in love can be pleasant-” her voice tightens as she says this- “which is why many people choose to chase that, rather than focus on what’s important. But as we all know, it’s also a distraction. You all - most of you,” she corrects herself, sparing a pointed glance towards Even, who does everything in his power not to roll his eyes at her. “You need to be able to tune out these distractions. Remember the little mermaid, and the consequences of falling in love.”

She looks so pleased with herself after the speech that Even is impossibly close to breaking his new rule of silence. He tenses what feels like every muscle in his body, and drums his fingers on the table instead.

Which isn’t silent enough, apparently. The professor shoots him a glare, which he ignores, and Isak turns to look at him, which he doesn’t. 

He holds Isak’s stare for as long as Isak can bear it - which doesn’t turn out to be long at all. His gaze quickly redirects to Even’s fingers, frozen mid-tap, and then at the notebook on his desk, covered in the doodles that Even can’t help himself from drawing, some of random objects around the room, and one of the little mermaid herself, sitting on a rock and gazing at the world around her. Isak’s expression relaxes into one of surprise, perhaps even awe, and he opens his mouth to speak.

“You’re-”

And then he clamps his mouth shut again, and turns back round, shoulders hunched. Even can only imagine what he wanted to say.

The professor moves on with the lesson, turning to the story of Rapunzel, then to Cinderella, and Snow White, turning each story into a tale of caution against love. 

It makes Even wonder why he’s allowed to exist. Why falling in love is allowed for anyone at all, and why there was no warnings in such depth as this before he had to make his choice on what to be. Sure, they used to tell them that love is a distraction for intellectuals, and there was never a single love story, good or bad, on the curriculum in school. But they never said it like this. They never said love was a death sentence.

And Even doesn’t believe it is. He doesn’t believe anything that the professor has said since he walked in on the first day, and if any other students in this class had minds of their own, they would surely be able to see the holes in the arguments, the cracks in society. 

Because half of the population does love, and they survive it just fine. They survive it more than the intellectuals who aren’t allowed to love, and can’t bear it.

But he won’t catch the professor teaching that. And it’s bullshit. This whole thing is bullshit. His silence rule is bullshit.

“This isn’t a very comprehensive list of fairy tales,” he interjects as soon as an opportunity arises, fighting down a grin at the sigh he hears across the room. “Honestly, you’ve missed some of the best ones. Beauty and the Beast, for example.”

“Oh yes?” replies the professor, he voice tighter than ever. “And what would that be about?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard of it?” says Even, as if it’s a surprise. “It’s about a prince, who’s a complete asshole, who’s rude to just about everyone, including an enchantress, who curses him to become as horrible on the outside as he is in his heart. The curse can only be broken if he learns to love, and be loved in return. Love saves his life, in the end.”

“Yes, well, that seems a little-”

“Far-fetched?” Even asks. “Just about as far-fetched as a mermaid who turns into seafoam, don’t you think?”

“If you’d let me finish,” says the professor. “I was trying to say  _ irrelevant _ . And it sounds as though you are trying to imply that people who choose not to love are - how did you put it - ‘complete assholes,’” she gets a laugh from the rest of the class. “Is that what you believe?”

Even just smiles. “I didn’t say that. But it does make me question your motivations for doing just about anything, if you claim not to feel love.”

Her expression turns sour. “In the future, Even,” she says quickly, turning away from him. “I would advise you not to discuss literature that’s not in the curriculum.”

“Just because it’s not in the curriculum, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” Even replies, but it gets no response.

He’s always taken that to mean that he’s won.

*

He's approached after class, before he even manages to leave the room. It's as though he blinks and suddenly his path is blocked by a small girl, with an air about her as though she runs the place, and it fills Even with dread. 

“Even, right?” she says, and Even immediately mistrusts the false brightness in her tone. “Hi!,” she continues when he nods. “I’m Vilde.”

She continues to smile, too brightly, but Even doesn't know what she wants, and she doesn't say anything more straight away, but waits for Even to speak. 

“What's up?” he asks eventually, haltingly. 

“Oh!” she says. “Well, I just wanted to check that you have the right reading materials for this course. Since you don't seem to know which books we’re actually studying, I thought you might have lost your copy of the reading list?”

Even forces himself to breathe and count to three before answering. “No, I have the reading list, thanks.” 

Vilde acts surprised. “Oh, you do?” 

“Yeah, why?” It's the only comfort he can get in the conversation, to pretend that he doesn't know what she's talking about, and see her indignation grow. 

“Well, you really ought to stick to it,” she says. “The books that we aren't taught really don't add anything to the lessons, you know.”

“I think they were a pretty good counter argument, actually,” says Even. “It's always good to have two sides.”

“Not always,” Vilde replies almost too quickly, and the facade starts to slip, like Even knew it would. “It's really -” she stops herself, and takes a breath before continuing. “Really disruptive of you to derail the lesson with that-” she stops herself quickly, and Even simply raises an eyebrow, daring her to continue. “We're being taught important lessons here,” she says. “The professor knows what she's talking about. Without your contributions.”

“I didn't say she didn't.”  _ But she doesn't.  _ “I'm just offering a different perspective.”

“If you wanted to be in a position to offer a meaningful perspective, perhaps you should have chosen your status more carefully,” Vilde snaps. 

Even doesn't satisfy her with a response. It’s easier just to walk off, and remind himself that he needs a cigarette.

*

He reaches the bench outside and slumps down onto it, barely sparing a glance to check if it’s wet. 

No one else is outside, the sky above a threatening grey to keep everyone away from the stormy mood Even is in right now. He pulls the lighter from his jacket and lights the cigarette already hanging from his lips, breathing in the acrid calm, relaxing his shoulders as the smoke fills his lungs. 

With his free hand, he unlocks his phone, scrolling through notifications that he doesn’t care about. Far enough back and he reaches the most recent message from his mother, which went unanswered, but on days like this, Even rereads it. 

_ Even, I know you won’t believe me, but I’m very proud of you. Ring me anytime you need to.  _

She’s right. He doesn’t believe her. 

“Hey, man!” Jonas’s voice floats across the courtyard, and Even glances up to see him coming over to sit. “You know it’s gonna rain, right?”

Even shrugs. “I like the rain.”

Jonas nods. “Fair enough. Anyway, listen, Eva wanted me to talk to you.”

Even raises an eyebrow to show that he’s listening, and Jonas continues.

“She wanted me to apologise for coercing you into a revolution,” he says, laughing slightly. “So, I’m sorry. Although you  _ did  _ want a revolution anyway, as I recall.”

“I did,” says Even, letting himself smile slightly now. “Still do.”

“Good,” says Jonas. “So you’d be down to try again? Without me stretching the truth about how easy it’s gonna be? And maybe with, uh,”he coughs into his hand. “Different people, or, more of them.”

“Yeah,” Even says. “Magnus and Eva are cool, though. And I know some friends from my old school that might be interested.”

“As long as we can trust them,” Jonas says. “But yeah, there'll be more people around even in this uni. We just have to find them.”

Even nods. “And we need a better idea of how we can actually change things.” 

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for a while, until the sky starts to make good on its promise to rain. Jonas glances upwards and smirks.

“Told you,” he says, and Even rolls his eyes. 

“Whatever,” he smiles to show that he’s not really annoyed. “I guess you’ll be going back inside then?”

“Yeah,” Jonas says, standing up. “But, how about another meeting next week? Same time, same place? And bring your friends.”

“Sounds good. See you around?”

“See you around.”

As Jonas walks off, Even takes another drag of his cigarette, and pulls his hood up. There’s still the remnants of anger coursing through him, but his determination is back, too. Things should and can and will change, if they can get it right.

So he needs ideas, and he needs a plan - but he’s never been a particularly organised person. The most he does is buy new sketchbooks whenever he has a new idea clouding his thoughts, but this isn't really time for a sketchbook.

Though, maybe it could be. His parents are designers - designers that stick to the rule book, yes, but they’ve taught him enough about how persuasive art can be, and reluctant as he is to use anything they’ve taught him, they were right about that, and Even would be idiotic not to use it to his advantage. So maybe he does need a new sketchbook.  

For now, though, he turns to the back page of an idea long since abandoned, and scribbles down anything that comes to him, words, motifs, drawings, anything, and glancing around every so often to make sure there’s no one looking over his shoulder. 

It’s been a while since he’s been this excited about something. It’s been a while since he felt like there was a reason he’s putting himself through university, when so many people don’t want him here. But if this works out, there’ll be no reason not to allow him here.

As he scribbles down ideas, he realises if he wants to successfully argue his side, he needs to know the other. He needs to remember the exact words that anyone has sad to oppose him. To beat them, he needs to understand them - so his mind takes him back to Isak, the closest he can get to an intellectual who has been willing to talk to him like a human.

But there’s two things that Isak said, and both of them, in Even’s eyes, have simple answers.

The first, about people understanding their roles. Essentially, about Isak telling him to “learn his place.” But in Even’s experience, in all the books he’s read, when the protagonist is told to learn their place, it’s a sign that the system is bullshit. And maybe Even isn’t the protagonist, but nobody ever told a villain to learn their place. 

The second, the words that keep coming back to him. “Heartbreak fucking kills people.” So do cars. So does electricity. So does any other mix of unbalanced brain chemicals, and Even would know. People are fragile. Life is fragile. 

But the words play on a loop in his brain - and not because he’s close to believing them - but because there’s a story there. There’s a heartbreak there, and maybe Isak won’t be convinced of Even’s side until he understands why Isak said it.

Isak isn’t the one he needs to convince, though. He needs to focus on the bigger picture.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you so much for all the love on this! This chapter's been my favourite to write so far, so I hope you like it!

Of all Isak’s emotions, he’s most comfortable with guilt.

It’s an undercurrent in all his thoughts, as comforting as it is threatening. It keeps him on the right path. If he’s too sad or too angry, or if he cares too much about feeling those things, guilt lets him understand his mistakes and learn from them. He needs it.

And sometimes, his guilt tells him that he’s been a bit of a dick, so he should do something about that. It’s why he invites Jonas out to a bar on Friday, beer on him. Jonas says yes because, _free beer_ , and because that’s just who he is.

It annoys Isak, actually, when people call Jonas laidback. He tried to plan a fucking revolution. When he cares about something, he’ll fight for it. He’s done it for Isak, and despite the shit Isak’s said, he’s still doing it. Even confirmed as much when he said that Jonas still had his back after the meeting.

That’s what Isak feels the guiltiest about, though it’s stiff competition. That Even, a fucking stranger, had to remind him what a good friend Jonas is. Isak should’ve realized that for himself.

And, Isak doesn’t want to be the beast.

Look, he knows his heart isn’t great. Any empathy or kindness that’s there has been marred by judgment and hostility, because what do you expect when you’re a kid and your dad just up and leaves? Isak doesn’t trust people, constantly ready to be angry at them for what they might do. It’s pretty fucking exhausting: he fights his emotions because it’s less effort than experiencing them.

But, he doesn’t want that heart to seep outside himself, to be—what were Even’s words again? A complete asshole, rude to everyone? It felt so fucking pointed. He just doesn’t want to be a dick, especially to the people who don’t actually deserve it.

Like Jonas. So, beers.

Isak mumbles out an apology, Jonas waves him off, and soon they’re talking about something stupid. The gross pizza in the cafeteria, how it leaks with grease.

“Maybe I’ll pick some up for the next meeting,” Jonas says. “Entice a crowd of stoners. They’ll probably be down for a revolution.”

And Isak’s surprised.

“I thought that wasn’t happening.”

“Yeah, maybe I wasn’t exactly prepared last time, but we’re going to get more people for this Wednesday. And an actual plan. Hopefully.” Jonas pauses. “You don’t have to come.”

“But if Eva’s not even on board, why are you bothering?”

Jonas furrows his eyebrows. “Why would that matter?”

“Aren’t you doing this for her?”

Jonas studies Isak, running his thumb over the rim of his glass, squinting like he’s trying to discern something he can’t quite see. And Isak can barely stand being seen like that, but he holds Jonas’s gaze because he’s making a fucking effort here.

“No. It’s just the right thing to do. She’s not the only person the system’s fucked over.”

Isak takes a long swig of his beer, then another, and pretends not to understand.

“Anyway,” Jonas continues when it’s clear Isak won’t respond. “She is on board, as long as it’s not a bunch of guys in a dick-measuring contest to see who’s the most radical. Her words.”

Isak laughs. “No shit.”

“She’s right, though. We need some actual diversity, more perspectives to understand all the different ways the system’s bullshit. Actually, if you know any intellectuals who think that way….”

Isak’s gut response is: _there aren’t intellectuals who think that way because they are smart enough not to._ In the interest of not being a dick, he just shakes his head.

“Speaking of revolutions,” Jonas says, looking over Isak’s shoulder. Isak turns his head and— _are you fucking kidding?_

Isak doesn’t think about this often, and tries not to think about it ever, but there was a time that he loved fairytales. His mom would tell him the versions with happy endings as bedtime stories, promising him a future with love, peace, and other ridiculous things. When she was too tired, or too caught up in whatever fantasies her mind was weaving, his dad would tell him those stories instead.

How fucking ironic.

If Isak still believed in fairytales, he would believe his constant meetings with Even are fate. Instead, Isak’s slightly annoyed as Jonas waves him over—how does this guy keep interfering in every aspect of his life?

“What’s up?” Jonas asks Even as he approaches their table. “You here alone?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend,” Even says, glancing at his phone. “But he bailed on me for a date like the asshole he is, so yes. I guess I’m here alone.”

“Join us, then.”

Even glances at Isak. “You don’t mind?”

It’s not an actual question, and if Isak’s honest with himself, he doesn’t know his actual answer, so he settles for the safest one. “No, it’s cool.”

Even pulls up a seat, and then there’s an awkward silence. He drums his fingers on the table, the same way he did in class. He’s always so fucking loud.

It makes Isak feel desperate for something to say, to interrupt Even before he speaks. He can’t be the loudest voice at the table Isak’s sharing with Jonas.

The bar only opened a couple months ago, so Isak comes up with a fair, completely neutral question to ask Even. Intellectuals aren’t known for being great conversationalists, but they fucking excel at small-talk. “You been here before?”

Even shakes his head, looking around. “No, first time. It’s weird seeing so many people from school here. I don’t get that.”

What? It’s a bar, close to the university, where the beer’s pretty cheap and the food’s half-decent. Isak would be surprised to see anyone else here, so he asks, “Why?”

“How is everyone cool with intellectuals drinking?” Even asks.

Isak instantly wishes he could take his question back. Rookie mistake. Never ask for information that gets below the surface of the conversation. Never fucking care about anything below the surface.

“Intellectuals are fucking stressed,” Isak says. “They work like, fourteen hours day and have a shitload of responsibility. If drinking helps them relax, what’s wrong with that?”

“Oh, nothing,” Even says. “I mean, I don’t care: you should do whatever you want. But it doesn’t exactly fit with the narrative that intellectuals must be protected from all potential risks and distractions, does it?”

“Yeah, but I can control this.” Isak takes a drink to make a point. “You don’t know what the fuck’s going to happen with love. I know what I’ll be like if I drink.”

“Ah, yes. Alcohol, famous for giving people an incredible amount of self-control.” Jonas laughs, and Even’s smirk is more teasing than condescending, so Isak lets it go with an eye-roll instead of an argument. “You can’t actually control anything, anyway. Not even your own thoughts.”

Isak thinks he’s wrong about that. Controlling his thoughts is how he gets through the day.

“So why is love,” Even continues, then with a glance at Isak, stops himself. “You know what, nevermind.”

Isak raises his eyebrows. The last thing he expected was for Even to stop talking. “What? You’re done?”

Even just nods.

“You’re content with me being an intellectual, believing in the system, all that shit you’re literally planning a revolution against?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m _content_ with it, but I’m not going to change your mind, right?” Isak shakes his head: no, probably not. “So, maybe I should put my energy towards actually planning that revolution instead. I have a stake in that.”

Isak’s kind of offended by the implication that Even has no stake in his story. He’s in it because he keeps fucking putting himself there, and now he doesn’t give a shit? And Jonas doesn’t care if he comes to the next meeting?

Isak can rationalize that he’s being unfair. He doesn’t support what they’re doing, he has made that very clear, so why should they keep pressuring him? They’re respecting the boundary he set, yet—

If they really, truly believe this is the right thing, but don’t care if Isak believes it, that means they don’t care about him.

Of course that hurts from Jonas, but why the fuck should he care about Even? He’s practically a stranger. A stranger who took the time to talk to him when he was sulking outside. To try to make him feel better, even though he didn’t deserve it. Even’s a good person, and it was nice to have that kind of person look out for him.

Isak wants to feel that again.

“I want to come to the next meeting.”

Now it’s Jonas’s turn to raise his eyebrows, all the way up to his hairline. “You really, really don’t have to.”

“No, no, I think it’s a good idea,” Even says, eyeing him. “We need your counterarguments to know what we’re up against. Right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jonas says. “As long as you’re not, you know….”

“An asshole about it?” Isak fills in. Jonas nods. “I won’t be. Or, I’ll try not to be. Just let me come.”

Jonas looks skeptical, but he shrugs as his way of saying yes. Even is still staring at him, so Isak asks him, “What? You said it was a good idea.”

“I did,” Even says. “I’m just—you’re the most confusing person I’ve ever met.”

 _Try living like this,_ Isak thinks, just as a text comes in on his phone. It’s from Sana, his lab partner in his biology class, asking him to clarify something in her notes. On a Friday, close to midnight.

Just like Isak should be doing.

Holy fuck, what’s wrong with him? Who cares if Jonas, and especially Even, don’t care about him? Why is he prioritizing his feelings? It shouldn't matter to him,  _fuck_. 

Maybe Even had a point about drinking.

“I think I’m going to go home,” Isak says as he texts Sana back, saying he’ll answer her as soon as he can. “I should study.”

“ _Now_?” Jonas asks, and Isak nods.

“Yeah, I’ve already wasted the whole evening, so. You coming?”

“Uh, I might text Eva and see if she wants to meet me here.”

Isak, stupidly, waits for Jonas to invite him to stay. He doesn’t. “Ok. Cool.”

“Wait, how are you getting home?” Even asks.

“Bus.”

“Let me drive you instead. I haven’t been drinking. And before you get weird about it, I’m still not trying to pick you up. But it’s freezing out, and dark, and you’ve been drinking—”

" _One_ beer.”

“Just let me help you. I don’t want your death on my conscience, especially if you’re the intellectual who’s going to going to cure cancer or something.”

Isak wants to get home more than he wants to argue, and a ride will be faster than the bus. And it is fucking cold outside.

“Ok, yeah. Thanks.”

Even looks relieved to be doing him a favour, which is confusing, but Isak is tired of processing weird relationship dynamics tonight. None of it matters, anyway.

“Truly no problem. Let’s go.”

\---

In Even’s car, he turns the heat on, plays music Isak knows by the lyrics is illegal, and stays in park. With one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel, he turns sideways to face Isak and says, “You ok now?”

“Ok?” Isak repeats, confused.

“You freaked out.”

“What?”

“Your hands, you kept doing this.” Even curls his fingers in and out a fist. “I noticed because I do it too.”

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t realize.”

“And your breathing got fast, right after you checked your phone? I don’t know. I worried you’d pass out at the bus stop.”

“I would’ve been fine.”

“You always say that. Thanks for letting me drive you home anyway.”

“You’re welcome?”

Even smiles and shifts the car into drive.

Their ride is quiet except for the music. _But watching stars without you my soul cried, having heart is full of pain. Oh, oh, the aching, ‘cause I’m kissing you._

“I don’t get this song,” Isak says, and Even laughs.

“Ok?”

“Seriously, I don’t. It’s fucking melodramatic, about your soul crying, but then it’s all about kissing? Isn’t that supposed to be the good part?”

“Mm, there’s always a bit of an ache when you love someone.”

“What do you mean?”

“You worry, about losing them. But not only that, sometimes you just…I don’t know, you can love someone so much that pain is the only feeling strong enough to encompass it. Does that make sense?”

“You sure you weren’t drinking?”

Even laughs again. “Do you need me to recite the alphabet backwards?”

“If there’s always an ache, why the hell would you put yourself through it?”

“Yeah, fair question. It’s hard to explain, but in my experience, it’s always been worth it. You’ll know what I mean if you ever fall in love.”

“I won’t.”

“See, _that_ makes me ache. That’s so fucking heartbreaking Isak, that you think you know that.”

Isak doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s been a weird night.

As they get closer to his house, Isak panics about his mom seeing a strange boy drop him off, late at night. He just doesn’t want her to worry. When Even asks him which driveway is his, Isak points it out and asks, “Can you park a few houses down, though?”

“Hm, I guess, but I was actually going to slow the car down and have you jump out.” At Isak’s silence, Even rolls his eyes and says, “Kidding, fuck. Of course, whatever you want.”

Isak smiles. “You’re….”

He wants to say _funny_ , because he is. While Isak may not agree with Even’s remarks in class, he enjoys them because he’s witty: it’s the first thing Isak noticed about him. However, Even’s humour is so intrinsic to who he is that it feels too intimate to compliment. Something Even’s produced though, something that’s what he’s done and not who he is, Isak could compliment that. And he probably owes Even a compliment after tonight.

“You’re a really good artist,” Isak says as Even parks, a few houses down from Isak’s. Even looks surprised, so Isak quickly continues to explain himself. “I mean, I wanted to tell you that in class the other day, so I figured I’d tell you now. Before I forget.”

“Before you forget that I’m a good artist?”

“Just take the fucking compliment.”

“Well, when it’s that sincere.” Even grins, and Isak rolls his eyes. “That stuff in class though, those are just doodles. I can do better. I’d show you, but then you’d have to report me for ‘distributing artwork that romanticizes love.’ You’re hanging out with a criminal.”

“Have you met Jonas?”

Even laughs. He’s so generous with his laugh. “True, true. You might be more of a rebel than you seem.”

Isak tries on a smirk like the one Even showed him earlier, teasing but not condescending. It’s kind of fun. “You don’t know what you’re in for with me.”

“No,” Even says. “I don’t think I do.”

It’s too quiet, but it feels like the kind you can’t leave behind, so Isak makes no move to exit the car, nor does Even ask him to.

“Why am I parked here?” Even asks after a beat.

“Oh,” Isak says. “My mom’s sick, so. I don’t want her to see you and stress.”

“Sick how?”

Isak’s never found the right words to talk about this. “Like, her mind’s not right? Some days she’s fine, but other times it’s like she totally loses touch with reality. It’s worse when she’s stressed.”

“Has she always been that way?”

“As long as I can remember, yeah.” Which is why it’s such bullshit that one day his dad decided he couldn’t deal with it anymore, but Isak keeps that to himself. He’s already told Even so much.

“She must be a lover, then.”

“Yeah,” Isak says, surprised. “How do you know that?”

“You’ve seen it in the tests, right? ‘Are you or have you ever been mentally ill?’ And if you answer yes, you’re recommended to be a lover, no matter what you say to the other questions. It’s like they don’t trust mentally ill people to be intellectuals.”

Isak didn’t know that. He never thought to check. “My mom’s really smart, though. So that’s kind of bullshit.”

“I disagree. It’s total bullshit.”

Isak laughs. “Yeah, ok. You might convince me of that one.”

Even smiles, lifts one of his hands off the steering wheel, then quickly puts it back. “What the fuck are you doing?” Isak asks, still laughing. He’s getting more generous with his laugh, too.

“Don’t freak out?” Even says. Isak nods, confused. “I was going to put my hand on your shoulder because, I don’t know, sometimes it’s comforting to have someone touch you like that. But I mean it when I say I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so. Would that make you uncomfortable?”

“I don’t know. Maybe do it and I’ll let you know?”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

So, Even reaches over to put his hand on Isak’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. It’s instant warmth, nothing like he’s felt when Jonas touches him. It feels special. It feels good. Comforting, as Even promised.

It is absolutely more than Isak should be feeling.

“Thanks for the ride,” he says, opening the car door. “I’ll see you in class?”

Even looks disappointed, but he nods. “Anytime. See you later.”

As Even drives away, Isak walks to his house, feeling light. Like he’s lost touch with reality. Like his mom.

Fuck. There’s the guilt.

He quickly texts Sana that he’ll talk to her in the morning. Inside his house, his mom’s asleep, so Isak goes straight to his room and makes a deal with himself.

Tonight, he’ll let himself cry, and in the morning, he’ll move on from whatever the fuck he felt tonight.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonsoir mon pals. this chapter is almost longer than my last two put together.  
> ENJOY  
> oh and thank you for continually being amazing in the comments!!! u are all awesome

Of all Even’s emotions, he hates uncertainty the most. 

And maybe he shouldn't, because he knows uncertainty can lead to the very best of experiences. He was uncertain before he tasted pancakes, and now they're his favourite food.  He was uncertain before he listened to illegal music for the first time, or watched a banned film. He was uncertain before his first kiss. 

But maybe those experiences are so good because they're mixed with the relief that the uncertainty is over. And sometimes, the uncertainty leads to - well, more uncertainty. 

Isak is confusing, to say the least, and Even doesn't know what good experience could come of this. In fact, he knows that no good can come of it, at all.

_ Unless things change, _ says that annoying fucking hopeful voice in his head. Unless things change, and Isak would be allowed to care, and then Even can justify himself starting to care about, worry about, even just think about Isak. As it stands, though, he can't. Isak is confusing, but he is, whether by his own choice or by circumstance, an intellectual. A robot. He doesn't care, however much Even wants to think he does. 

Even sighs. His brain is messy, and loud, and his room is too quiet to hold it down to Earth. In his room on campus, he doesn't get a roommate. Lovers just don't, at least in official university accommodation, and for the most part, it's a small mercy that makes university halfway bearable. Sometimes, though, Even needs people. 

Although at the moment, it might be less people in general, and more the one person that he trusts to understand what's happening in his head. Maybe he won't bail in favour of a date a second time around.

*

It's been too long since Even has been here, to Mikael’s house - longer than it’s been since he's seen Mikael. 

The printing shop is the same as Even remembers it, same faded sign declaring “we print anything!” but what most people don’t know is that they mean really anything, whether it’s legal or not. Behind the shop front, in the little back room, and the cellar below, is a collection of all the art Even grew up with - all the books, music, films that are banned by the government. 

He’s desperate to go back there again, actually, but he heads up the stairs first, to Mikael’s family’s apartment. Mikael greets him at the top with a tight hug, and Even returns it.

“Surprised you’re actually here this time,” Even smiles cheekily. “And not ditching me for another date.”

Mikael rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Even laughs. “Was he cute, at least?”

“Very cute. Cuter than you.”

“No one's cuter than me.”

“Debatable,” says Mikael, fighting a smile. “Do you want a drink?” he offers, and Even nods. 

He follows Mikael into the kitchen, smiling at the familiar feeling everything here gives him. 

“It really has been so long since I was last here,” Even says. 

“Yeah,” Mikael says. “You haven't been round since you went all wannabe intellectual on me and started uni.”

“‘Wannabe intellectual’?” scoffs Even. “Is that how you see it?”

“Is that not how it is?” Mikael teases, and Even presses his lips together, refusing to justify it with a response. 

“You're such a dick,” Even says eventually while Mikael just grins. “How's fitting into society going then?”

“What, you call working in my parents’ hidden revolutionary shop fitting into society?”

Even scowls at the fact that Mikael has beaten him again. “Fine. What can I bully you about, then?”

“Nothing,” says Mikael. “I'm fucking perfect, you know that.”

“You're fucking full of yourself.”

“I am, thanks for noticing.”

Even shakes his head fondly, and allows Mikael to push a cup of tea into his hand and lead him to the table. 

He waits until a good way into their conversation to bring up the idea of a revolution. Not because he thinks Mikael wouldn’t jump at the chance, but because he doesn’t want it to seem as though that’s the only reason he’s here.

It doesn’t take long to convince him to join the meeting.

“Come on, Even. you know my parents would disown me if I passed up the opportunity for a revolution.” Mikael must notice the look on Even’s face after he mentions parents, because he stops short, and sighs. “Sorry. But yeah, I’m in.”

Even attempts a smile. “Good.”

There’s silence between them for a minute, and then Mikael shatters it.

“Your mum comes into the print shop sometimes, you know,” he says. “She asks me about you.”

Even shrugs, trying not to react. “What do you tell her?”

“That you're doing good,” he smiles. “That you're fucking the world up like you've always wanted.” Even starts to protest but Mikael quickly says “kidding! I just tell her you're okay.”

Even nods. 

“You could ask her to join a revolution, though.” Mikael says, and Even doesn't know whether he's joking until he looks over at him and sees the sincerity. “She would, for you.”

Even tries to keep his voice level when he replies. “But she wouldn't fucking agree with it, though.”

Mikael sighs. “You wouldn't be staging a revolution if you didn't believe people could change their minds, Ev.”

“But you didn't see how fucking upset she was. Every single time I would go to a doctor and they told me I shouldn't be an intellectual. Every single fucking time.”

Mikael pauses before replying, looking at Even as if he’s seeing right through him. “There was a time when it upset you, too.”

“No there wasn’t,” Even replies too quickly.

“Just after we broke up?” says Mikael, as if Even needed reminding. “When you started hanging out with Sonja and Elias, and all the rest of them?”

“But I never wanted to be like them,” Even says. “Not really.” He's trying to convince himself more than Mikael. “Not for long, anyway.” That's closer to the truth. 

Mikael doesn't speak for a minute, and the silence between them is tense, until Mikael settles it. “Even, the intellectual,” he says. “God, imagine that.”

Even shivers dramatically, smiling again. “Horrible. God, you should hear some of the intellectuals in class. Especially love class.”

“Love class?” Mikael sounds shocked. “That's an actual thing? I thought that was just a myth.”

“Nope. A handy guide to why love is literally going to kill you. Just to make sure there aren't any intellectuals who have feelings.”

Mikael shakes his head. “You know I was reading some old book the other day,” he says. “And it went on about how university was the time to experiment, and date a bunch of people, and get your heart broken.”

“Well, it should be,” says Even. “We’re so fucking young. How are we meant to know whether we want to have feelings?”

“Do you not?” Mikael asks, suddenly concerned for reasons Even doesn’t understand. “Know whether you want to have feelings, I mean?” 

Even raises an eyebrow at him. “I wasn’t talking about mys- I just - I mean it’s not a choice we should have to make, you know?”

Mikael nods. “Yeah. You’re right.”

*

The study room in the library isn’t empty like Even expects to find it, half an hour before the meeting is set to begin. He notices the  _ someone _ before he notices who exactly it is, so he’s set to walk up to them and tell them that this room is taken, actually, so - 

But it’s Isak. Of course it’s Isak.

He’s hunched over a book, headphones on and his back to the door, so he doesn’t notice Even come in behind him, and Even doesn’t want to disturb him. Not now that he’s really seeing him. He looks… gentle. The look that Even has caught snatches of when Isak seems to forget himself, like when he caught his eye in love class, or the moment, just a moment, when Even’s hand found Isak’s shoulder. The scowl that’s always on Isak’s face, the one that almost seems to just be his natural look, is lifted. 

Even doesn’t want to ruin his peace. He hesitates in the doorway for a moment, and just watches. 

Isak must sense that there is someone behind him, though, because he turns, and starts a little at seeing Even. He pushes his headphones down to hang around his neck, and bites his lip.

“Hi,” he says quietly. 

“Hi,” Even smiles. “I didn’t think anyone else would be here this early.”

A smile flickers across Isak’s face. “Neither did I. I thought I would get some work done, before we - I mean it’s just homework, it’s not… anyway.” He trails off, and looks away.

“So you’re not trying to help plan the revolution?” Even asks, smiling as he moves around the table to sit opposite Isak.

Isak just rolls his eyes. “I can’t get anything done at home,” he says, shrugging. “Can’t concentrate.” As soon as he says it, he looks down, pretending to be engrossed in his work again. 

Even looks at him for a second, and wants to ask if he’s okay - but he knows continuing the conversation any further won’t do any good. Instead, he takes out the reason he has arrived so early himself, the new sketchbook that he finally bought, with all of its new ideas and already torn pages.

He picks up a pen and starts to tap it against the table, but one glance up at Isak shows him a narrow eyed frown.

“Sorry,” Even mutters. “I don’t even realise I’m doing it.”

“Everyone else does,” comes Isak’s response, but although he says it in that grumpy Isak way, he seems to be fighting a smile, and, a second later, he huffs a laugh. Even grins too.

He gestures to Isak’s headphones. “So what are you listening to, anyway?”

“Is that a hint for me to put them back on so I can’t hear you tapping?”

Even flicks his eyebrows up, but then shakes his head. “No, I’m just wondering.”

“Oh,” Isak nods. “Uh, just some music. It’s legal, so you won’t have heard of it.”

Even laughs in surprise. “Wow.”

“Am I wrong?” Isak asks, a challenge in his half smile and raised eyebrow.

Even shakes his head, then takes out his phone. “You miss out on some good songs, though.”

“All I miss out on is your fucking miserable ballads, or whatever they are.”

“What, you think every single love song is sad?” Even scrolls quickly through the music on his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the perfect song. “Listen to this.”

“Have you been waiting for me to ask you for happy love songs or something?”

It’s just a throwaway comment, really, but it makes Even think. While he hands over his earphones and watches Isak listen to  _ Ain’t No Mountain High Enough _ , he considers it. Because, since Friday, he has spent more of his time than usual going through all of his favourite songs, and finding the ache. And it wasn’t like he was consciously trying to find reasons that it’s not a bad thing, to have that ache, or finding something to show that maybe it’s not always there, that love sometimes isn’t sad at all - but maybe he was looking for that. Whether for himself or for Isak, he was trying to find proof that love is one of the happiest things to experience. 

In front of him, Isak listens to the song, and Even tries not to imagine that he’s forcing himself not to react. He sees him shift slightly, move his head as though he wants to nod along, sees his lips twitch as if he’s trying not to smile.

But it could all be in his head. Isak could just not care at all. He hands the earphones back to Even a minute later with nothing but a noncommittal “yeah, good song,” and turns quickly back to his books.

There’s silence between them again, but while Even goes over his plans for the meeting, he can’t help but glance up at Isak every so often. Especially when he gets to the page that he’s started, about how to beat the arguments against love. 

He takes a deep breath. “Why are you so convinced that heartbreak kills people?”

“I- what?”

“I mean, not you personally, just.” Now that he’s started he can’t stop, but maybe he shouldn’t have been so blunt. “It just seems like it’s the main issue people have with love.”

Isak doesn’t seem to understand the question. “People don’t want to die?”

“No but,” Even tries to explain himself. “When people talk about the system it’s always about how love is distracting, how intellectuals are too busy making important decisions and they have to be neutral, which wouldn’t work if they were allowed to fall in love, but in love class, and when you were talking about it, it’s like… that’s not why you don’t want to fall in love. It’s like you just don’t want to die.”

Isak just blinks at him for a second. “I’ve never thought of it like that,” he admits, and it’s the biggest victory Even feels like he’s had since he started uni. Isak seems to shake himself, though. “It’s just the easiest way to explain it,” he says. “The way you get people to listen to you. Like, it’s not the main reason. I’m - I don’t want to fall in love because it’s a distraction, but if I led with that, no one would listen, because it seems trivial. If you want to convince people of something, you have to get their attention.”

“But maybe it is trivial,” Even counters. “I mean, everyone’s different, right? So love might be a distraction to some people, but to others, it’s what gets them through the day. It’s what helps them focus.”

“Then they should be lovers,” Isak says.

“But what if they’re smart?”

“Love is too unpredictable to always help you focus. What if a surgeon was about to perform life changing surgery, and then just before, his boyfriend broke up with him, or something? He could kill the patient because he can’t focus on anything except that.”

“And that’s why heartbreak kills people?” Even asks. “You don’t trust people to be professional?”

“The way some people describe love, it’s all you can think about, isn’t it?”

Even sighs. “It can feel like that,” he says. “But when you know that you have to do something important, it’s possible to tear your mind away. If kids were taught how to process their emotions, instead of locking them away forever, love wouldn’t be a problem.”

“But-”

He’s interrupted by Even’s phone buzzing loudly on the table with a text from Mikael, asking to be let into the library.

“I have to go and let my friends in,” Even tells Isak, although Isak could easily have read the text for himself. 

Isak nods, and it's almost as though he's put a mask on after realising the possibility of other people arriving. Even wants to say something more, but he doesn't know what, so he just leaves, out the door and down the stairs, trying to process everything that Isak had said. 

He’s halfway through a thought that might turn into something useful when he arrives at the main door, and with the sight of Mikael, Mutta, and Yousef, it's gone. 

He greets them all with hugs, then glances to the side and sees the glare from the librarian. 

“Crap,” he mutters. “We might be drawing too much attention to the fact that you guys aren't supposed to be here.”

“I thought we were allowed in if there's a public event happening?” asks Yousef.

“You are, but technically there isn't one of those. We aren't exactly going public with the meetings at this stage. Anyway, follow me.”

He leads them through the library and back to the study room, where Isak is still sitting alone with his books. He turns to look as they enter, and gives a half smile in greeting when Even introduces them.

“Guys, this is Isak, Isak this is the guys, Mikael, Mutta, Yousef,” he points to each of them in turn. “By the way, where are Adam and Elias?” he turns the question to Yousef, as the one who is most likely to actually know the answer. 

“Well, you know Elias,” Yousef says. “He's so intellectual that he doesn't want a revolution. Adam didn't want him to feel left out, so they've gone to see some movie instead of this.”

Even nods. “Okay, well, I don't know how many more people were waiting for, but Jonas, the guy whose idea this whole thing was isn't even here yet-” He's interrupted by Jonas arriving. “Never mind,” he grins. 

Jonas greets him with a handshake, and a nod towards the others, before he walks further into the room. “Isak, you actually showed?”

“I told you I would,” Isak replies. “Like, three times.”

When Jonas just shrugs, Even is pretty sure he hears Isak mutter “dick” under his breath.

“So,” Jonas turns back to Even. “I invited a couple more people, plus Eva and Magnus, so we should probably set up this room a little better. Did you invite anyone else?”

“Just these guys,” Even says, watching Isak huff and gather all his books up to put away. 

In the time it takes them to set up the room with the chairs in something vaguely resembling a circle and the tables pushed to the sides, Magnús and Eva arrive, each bringing a friend - Magnús brings his friend Mahdi, and Eva brings a girl called Chris - who seems familiar, but she tells Even she's a lover, and not at university. 

“I just have one of those faces,” she grins. “Or maybe I've served you some disgusting coffee.”

The last two to arrive are both familiar again. One, Noora, is in his love class - one of the quiet ones (but still an intellectual). In fact, Even hasn't heard her talk before she introduces herself. 

The other is Sana, and perhaps it shouldn't surprise him that Elias’s younger sister is here, but Even feels his mouth open in surprise, and finds equally shocked looks on his friends as well, although Mikael’s is more impressed than surprised, and Yousef’s more delighted. 

She half smiles at the four of them. “What's up?” she says.

Yousef has been in love with Sana for what feels like as long as Even has known him. Sometimes, Even can't even be sure that she knows how he so obviously feels - but sometimes, like now, he swears he sees her eyes fall on Yousef more often than the fall on any of the others - but then, she's an intellectual, so really, it doesn't matter either way.

The four of them greet her in return with a chorus of “hi Sana!” and “we didn't know you'd be coming!”

Sana nods in response. “You guys didn't manage to convince Elias, then?” she asks. “Did you try?”

Even looks away, in the hope that someone else will answer the question, and in doing so, notices Mikael also shifting uncomfortably. The truth is, he hasn't spoken to Elias in a while, preferring just to hear about him through Yousef. It's not that they aren't friends, it's just - 

It's difficult. When they were younger, they never talked about intellectual stuff. It was something that was far off, unimportant, irrelevant. They were friends, the six of them would hang out together, and nothing else mattered. Then, a little later, Elias became distant, and started hanging out with people who cared about that sort of thing. They were still friends, but it was strained. It's the same now - after several changes of heart and mind from everyone involved, it's settled back to that. Mikael and Even at one end of the spectrum, organising a revolution, and Elias at the other. 

It doesn't really feel like it can ever get back to how it was when they were young, but it's not like Even doesn't miss that time - and Elias. 

Yousef, thankfully, answers Sana's question for them. 

“He didn't seem keen,” he says, which might be putting it kindly - although Even doesn't know for sure what Elias said about it. “But you and me, we’ll convince him!” he grins at Sana, who gives him a rare smile in return. 

“We’ll see,” she says, and turns away.

Even breathes a sigh of relief that she didn't question them more about Elias. 

“I think everyone’s here,” says Jonas. “Shall we start?”

There's a little shuffling around, but everyone finds a seat, and all eyes turn to Jonas - except Isak’s, who keeps shifting his gaze to Sana next to him, seeming confused.

“I feel like I don’t need to explain why you’re all here,” Jonas says. “Society sucks and all that jazz. But we can do something about it, and we should.” He looks around the room expectantly, but is met with little response aside from a few nods. “It’s early stages yet,” he continues. “But we can’t do anything big until we lay the foundations, gather support, voice our opinions, so that’s why we’re having this meeting, just to make a start.”

He shuffles around some papers from his bag. “So, I’m open to ideas on how this should work,” he says. “Me and Even have had a few, but it’s always helpful to have more. But we were thinking if we split off into groups, and each group can focus on one thing. We thought one group could start by writing to the government, to representatives there, and see what their opinions are, whose support we can get and who we can sway there. I have a list,” he waves a few sheets of paper. “of addresses of people working for the government-”

“Jonas, is that legal?” Eva interrupts him. “Where did you find those?”

“Revolution isn't legal, Eva,” Jonas replies smoothly. “But actually, these are all available to the public.”

Eva gives him a suspicious look, but says nothing more.

Jonas looks at Even expectantly, and Even remembers his part. He nudges Mikael. “Did you bring it?” he asks in a low voice, and Mikael hands him over more the list Even knows his parents keep, of every person in the city put on trial for love, and every organisation - some legal, some not - that sets out to support those people.

“A redacted version,” Mikael says, and Even nods.

“I have another list of addresses,” he directs this to everyone. “Of support networks that help people affected by the laws against love, people who’ve been arrested for falling in love, as or with an intellectual. It's probably our best way of getting support for a revolution, because these are the people that are going to want change most of all.”

He looks back at Jonas, who takes over again. “And another group we thought could start work on getting support from the general public. Even knows someone,” he looks at Even for confirmation, and Even nods. “-who can print stuff for us, leaflets and posters and stuff.”

A glance around the room tells Even that everyone seems at least a little interested. Even Isak is paying attention. 

“So… yeah,” Jonas concludes. “Does that work for everyone?”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, happy Sunday! Hope you enjoy this next chapter! <3

Isak tries to keep his life segmented.

School has the largest portion of it: if he’s in class or home alone, he’s studying. By a wide margin, family is next: he tries to eat dinner with his mom, to listen to her when she needs someone to talk to, but he can’t worry about her beyond that time. Then, his friends, aka Jonas: he’ll put aside a few hours a week for them to grab a beer or play video games, but no more than that. Finally, his feelings. Those come out at two in the morning when he can’t sleep, and only then.

He tries, anyway.

This fucking revolution is complicating things. Sana’s his lab partner: she was supposed to fit neatly into school _._ Not to mention Magnus, Noora, and, of course, Even: they were supposed to be his peers and nothing other than that. But now, it seems like everyone wants to be friends.

The meeting ended at least twenty minutes ago, but everyone’s lingering outside the library, talking in small groups about how they’re going to change the world. Isak hovers around them, waiting for Jonas or Even to invite him into their conversations, but Jonas has his revolutionaries, and Even…well, Even has friends. A lot of them.

Isak shouldn’t be surprised—he’s a lover, after all—but it’s _weird_ , seeing Even in a new context. His smile seems to stretch to the stars, convincing Isak he only saw corners of it before. He’s not generous with his laughter as much as he living in it: loud, deep laughs that light up everyone around him. And his eyes, they’re relaxed in a way that makes Isak realize they’ve never been before.

He’s beautiful.

It’s, objectively, a nice thing to see someone surrounded by friends, but it has Isak somewhat on edge. Whatever moments he’s shared with Even during class, in his car, before the meeting, they aren’t anything compared to what Even has with his friends.

It shouldn’t matter to Isak, he knows that, but it does.

It’s not Jonas or Even, but Sana, who catches Isak’s eye first. Excusing herself from a conversation with Yousef, she approaches Isak and says, “Surprised to see you here.”

“ _Me_?” Isak repeats. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You first.”

It’s moments like this, when everyone’s loving one another as Isak watches, that make him unsure of his actual answer. He goes with the easy one. “I’m friends with Jonas. I don’t actually believe in this shit.” Isak doesn’t know Sana that well, but given their debates in class, he knows she’s not shy to offer a rebuttal if she has one. When she’s quiet, Isak asks, “Do you?”

“I’m not sure,” she says, and Isak wouldn’t believe those words were coming from Sana if it weren’t for the crack in her voice. Isak follows her gaze to Yousef until it returns to him. Taking a breath, and regaining some confidence in the process, Sana continues, “I’m doing my preliminary research now.”

Isak furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Finding out what this ‘revolution’ actually entails, what realistic changes could be made, and determining if those changes would be an improvement or not.”

“You can’t quantifiably measure that, though.”

Sana’s eyes drift to the piece of paper in her hand, the list Even distributed of people who’ve been charged with falling in love as or with intellectuals. Isak’s surprised by its length, and it’s not even comprehensive.

“Maybe we can,” Sana says. “Do you want to work with my group on this? I don’t exactly know who’s in yet, but definitely Yousef, probably Noora, maybe Magnus—"

“No, I’m….” Isak’s flustered: he thought he was clear about this. “I’m not like, a fucking revolutionary, I’m not participating in this—”

“You came to the meeting.” Isak doesn’t have a defence ready for that. “I’m not a revolutionary either. I’m just interested. We’re allowed to be interested.”

Isak’s not sure that’s true.

“Anyway,” Sana says. “You can think about it. See you in class?”

Isak nods, expecting her to head towards a car or the bus stop, but she joins Noora and starts chatting with her instead. She didn’t leave, she just left him, and now he’s alone with all these fucking people again.

He should just go home.

Isak starts to walk away, figuring he’ll text Jonas when he gets to the bus stop to tell him he left, when Even’s voice interrupts his escape.

“Hey, Isak!”

Even jogs to catch up with him, which is stupid because Even’s voice has Isak frozen in place, waiting. He smiles as he approaches, the full one he wore with his friends, cheeks pink from the cold.

Still beautiful.

“Good meeting, yeah?” Even says. Isak nods because, from Jonas’s perspective, he’s sure it was. “It’s cool to have more people here.”

“Yeah.”

Isak catches disappointment on Even’s face again, the same look he had in the car, and actually, the same look he had earlier this evening when his friends interrupted their conversation.

“Anyway,” Even says, running a hand through his hair like he doesn’t know what to do. “Just wanted to say goodnight before you took off.”

Isak’s edge evaporates, just like that. It’s fucking terrifying how quickly Even can shift his mood.

“Oh yeah,” Isak says, trying a smile of his own despite his fear. “Goodnight.”

\---

It’s two in the morning, and Isak’s feelings are out in full fucking force.

What the fuck does Jonas need him for now? He has a whole army of people now who share his passions. He’ll move on. He didn’t even reply when Isak texted that he’d left.

Eva didn’t look at him once, not in the meeting, not outside, not as he walked away.

His simple, straightforward lab partner relationship with Sana is…not that anymore.

Even.

Isak likes him. He was fucking jealous earlier this evening: he’s smart enough to name that feeling, though he’d rather it was anything else. It can do some fucking damage. It can kill people.

And, Even was right: Isak doesn’t want to die, but he feels like it’s happening anyway.

Isak’s mom is crying in her bedroom. Isak’s crying in his own room, and he doesn’t know if other people cry like this, suddenly and without reason. Everything at two in the morning feels like too much.

Even’s words ring in his head. _If kids were taught how to process their emotions, instead of locking them away forever, love wouldn’t be a problem._

Maybe he’s right.

\---

In the morning, Isak pretends he was dreaming at two in the morning. It’s a lost hour, one controlled by his subconscious, one with no basis in reality. He makes coffee which is equivalent to making breakfast, gets on the bus, and goes to class as usual. It’s love class, so he can drift off a bit until he fully wakes up.

Even’s already in class when gets there. As Isak sits down, Even says, “Hey. How was the rest of your night?

They’ve never done this kind of check-in. It feels too familiar for Isak’s comfort. “Uh, fine. Yours?”

“A bunch of us went to Mutta’s after the meeting, which was awesome, but I’m fucking exhausted now. I might not even have the energy to start a debate and make everyone uncomfortable today.”

Even grins, but Isak’s caught up on the first part. “A bunch of you?”

“Well, just the guys I came with, Jonas, and Eva.”

Isak’s stomach hollows. “Oh.”

“We would’ve invited you along,” Even says, and it bothers Isak how quickly and accurately Even can read him. “But you left early, and Jonas said you’d texted him to say you’d gone home to study, so. I know how important that is to you.”

Isak expects sarcasm in Even’s last sentence, but he doesn’t hear it: just sincerity. Isak makes up for it in his response. “Yeah, well, studying’s all I’m good for anyway.”

Maybe some sincerity snuck in there, because Even’s looking at him the same way Jonas did in the bar, furrowed eyebrows and too much concern to be comfortable.

“You know you’re more than that.”

“I’m just joking.”

Even opens his mouth to respond, but he’s distracted by something on the other side of the classroom. Isak follows his eyes to Vilde: he only knows her name because of her inane contributions to class discussions, always affirming what the professor says without adding anything of value to it.

Not that Isak says much in class himself.

She’s watching them. “Do you know her?” Isak asks.

Even takes too long to respond given his answer is, “Not really.”

Class begins, and Isak’s grateful to have an out from this conversation until the professor says, “Today, we’re going to try something a bit different.”

In Isak’s experience, any class that starts with that sentence is going to be awkward at best, offensive at worst, and generally unproductive. His fears are confirmed when the professor explains the activity.

“I want you to break off into small groups of four or five. Each group will get a case study that describes a real scenario in which romantic love had a negative impact on someone’s life. It’s one thing for us to talk in hypotheticals, but I’m hoping this exercise will help you understand the real implications of what we’re learning.”

 _You’re hoping it’ll scare us_ , Isak thinks, which scares himself. That’s something Even would say, and though Isak doesn’t particularly want to be influenced by more revolutionary ideas, he finds himself turning around his chair and asking Even, “You want to work together?”

Because really, who the fuck else is he going to ask? He doesn’t like anyone else.

“Yeah, of course,” Even says, and something about the _of course_ alerts the sensations under Isak’s skin. Isak scans the class for Magnus or Noora because he at least knows them, but they’ve already found their way into other groups. Instead, they’re joined by a quiet girl who has found herself group-less. As she introduces herself as Ingrid, Vilde approaches them.

“Room for one more?” she asks, so peppy it’s already giving Isak a headache.

Before he can pull literally anyone else into their group, Ingrid says, “Sure.”

Once they’ve arranged their desks into a square, Isak glances at Even, who is curling his fingers in and out of a fist. It makes Isak feel a sort of solidarity with him: they’re clearly both dreading this, but at least they’re in together. Isak nods at him, and Even gives a smile that Isak now knows isn’t his real one in response.

“I’ll read the scenario,” Vilde volunteers after the professor’s handed them out. Clearing her throat like she’s about to deliver a campaign speech, she reads, “Astrid, an intellectual, is a prosecutor with ten years of experience under her belt. She meets Eirik, a lover, through mutual friends at a party. They start getting coffee together as friends, every now and then at first, and then multiple times a week. After a few months, they start dating in secret—until they have a child together. Discuss the potential consequences of their actions.”

“It’s obvious, right?” Ingrid says. “She gets disbarred and loses her career. They both face criminal charges.” She takes out her phone like she’s ready to move on from this conversation, but Vilde decides there’s more to discuss.

“You’re absolutely right, but there’s actually a lot more to it,” Vilde says, though that introduction does not make Ingrid look up from her phone. She directs her comment to Isak and Even instead. “It’s not like this is a first offence between a couple of twenty-year-old’s who have to pay a fine and write a letter about how they’ve learned their lesson. She’s been working in law for ten years: she’s going to face a harsher sentence for that. It’ll be worse for Eirik since he seduced her into it.”

“I’m sorry,” Even says, though he does not sound it. “Where does it say that Eirik seduced her?”

“It’s implied since he’s the lover.”

“No, you don’t get to erase her agency in this. From what we know, this is a relationship between two adults who can make their own decisions. Lovers aren’t villains.”

“I’m not saying that, but if your priority is love, that’s what you’ll be focused on. So, in this scenario, it’s more likely that Eirik pursued her—”

“And why do you think lovers are always hitting on you? Trust me, we have less interest in you than you have in us.”

Isak cannot rationalize the sting he feels from that comment.

“Let’s consider this from a different angle, then,” Vilde says. “They have a child together. What kind of example have their parents set? How will they know whether to be an intellectual or lover? Not to mention that the parents will have to separate, potentially spend time in prison—”

“Or,” Even says. “They’ll have two parents that love each other? They’ll learn that labels don’t fucking matter? No, you’re right, they’ll be traumatized.”

“What about the fact that we’ve lost a prosecutor?” Vilde asks. “It’s incredibly irresponsible because it doesn’t only affect them. It affects the child. It affects the entire community.”

“What a shame that we’ve lost someone who criminalizes people for falling in love. How will we ever go on?”

“You know,” Vilde says, flustered now. “I’m not sure why you’re even here.”

“I know.”

“I’ve tried to help you, but you’re clearly not interested in learning the actual curriculum. You’re here to spread an agenda against the system that, quite frankly, is dangerous. You have people here trying to get an education, trying to get a career that’ll ultimately benefit you, and you’re distracting them from that. And who knows what else you’ll do while you’re here?”

That gets Ingrid to look up from her phone. Isak’s leaning forward in his seat as well, keeping an eye on Even, though he doesn’t know what do about how fucking exhausted he looks. If he should do anything at all.

“I’m just saying,” Vilde continues. “If you empathize with these characters so much, maybe you’ll become Eirik. You could ruin an intellectual’s life.”

Even stands up, so sudden it shakes the desks and makes the professor turn her head. “Thank you,” he says. “But I don’t need any help hating myself. I’m fucking done.”

He leaves, and Isak still doesn’t know what the fuck to do.

Vilde, of fucking course, has some suggestions. “Isak, you should be careful,” she says, and Isak’s mostly surprised that she knows his name. It’s not like she asked. “I know you want a good career after this, so you need to watch who you hang out with.”

Yeah, he’s been told that his entire life, but he’s always evaluated who he associated himself with. When people started talking shit about Jonas, Isak chose to stick with him because, regardless of his political views, he’s the best person Isak knows.

And it’s the same with Even: he is kinder than Isak would be in his circumstances, compassionate like the word exists to describe him. He’s certainly a better person than _Vilde._

And as Isak thinks about it, Even easily defeated her arguments. Of course it would be better for the child to have two parents who loved each other: that’s all Isak ever wanted. Yes, they would be criminalized for it, but maybe the laws are just shit. Isak’s finding it harder and harder to see anything wrong with loving someone because—

He’s thinking about Vilde’s example, the way she painted Even as a villain who could fall in love with an intellectual. And if Even were to fall in love with Isak, in a hypothetical scenario, he can’t see that as bad. He can almost see it as good.

His mind is racing, but one thought is clear.

“Fuck you,” he says to Vilde, then he goes to find Even.

Despite his dramatic exit, Even did not go very far: Isak spots him leaning against a closed classroom door with his eyes closed. Isak’s not used to comforting people and doubts he’ll be good at it, but fuck, he’s finally decided he has to do _something._

“Even?”

Even opens his eyes, but they’re not giving anything away. “ _What?”_

The exasperation his voice feels like someone’s pouring water into the sting Isak got earlier. “I just wanted to tell you that I don’t agree with what Vilde said.”

“Awesome,” Even says, all the sarcasm Isak expected earlier now oozing out of his words. “I’m so grateful to have your support.”

“No, I’m serious—you were right about everything. I told her to fuck off.” Isak smiles, but Even doesn’t return it.

“That’s great, Isak. I’m glad you had your moment. Maybe next time you can stand up for me when I’m actually being attacked.”

Isak’s stunned. “Yeah. Shit. I’m sorr—”

Even shakes his head. “Please, just don’t even bother. I don’t know why I’m still trying with you. I don’t know why I’m fucking trying at all.”

Even leaves, again, and Isak feels like absolute shit.

\---

The world needs Even trying.

That’s what Isak’s convinced of by the time he gets home. Maybe it needs him as a doctor, Sana as surgeon, fucking _Astrid_ as a prosecutor, but it needs Even too, it needs his goodness. Fuck anyone who makes him think otherwise. Fuck Vilde. Fuck the government. Fuck Isak’s own ignorance.

He gets it now, Jonas’s anger at watching the way Eva was constantly devalued. Isak has anger, at four in the afternoon instead of two in the morning, and fuck, he has to do something with it. And there’s Even voice, still in his head: _If kids were taught how to process their emotions, instead of locking them away forever, love wouldn’t be a problem._

Ok. Maybe it’s time to try that.

Isak tells his mom he’s studying, locks himself in his room, and turns on his laptop. Its slow start-up is not keeping pace with Isak’s adrenaline; he slaps it a couple times just to get some energy out. When he finally has a document open, he begins to write.

_To who-fucking-ever,_

_I’ve always believed in the system._

_My parents are lovers. My parents are divorced. When you’re a kid and your mom starts sobbing, it’s the worst fucking thing you’ve ever experienced. So yeah, I didn’t want that. I was going to be an intellectual because I’m really fucking smart._

_But because I’m really fucking smart, I can also call bullshit._

_None of us are fucking happy. Lovers want the chance to do more—I think, anyway. I’ve been shit at listening to them because you’ve convinced me I didn’t need to. I know what it’s like to be an intellectual though. I am so scared of falling in love that I won’t let myself feel anything._

_But I can’t actually control that, I can’t control shit, so I just feel like shit about failing. I don’t know how to handle anything. Today I’ve decided my coping mechanism is writing this fucking letter, lucky for you._

_My entire life, my goal hasn’t been to fulfill my purpose as an intellectual. It hasn’t been to be a doctor. It’s been to avoid getting hurt the way my mom was, but I thought focusing on those other things would accomplish that._

_It didn’t fucking work, and it is your fault for making me think it would._

_And I don’t know who the fuck the system is working for. I have these friends who are the best people I know, and it’s made them feel like shit. It’s made some of them hate themselves._

_I don’t know what the solution is. I’m not studying public administration because I thought it was boring as shit, but it matters._

_You’re intellectuals. Figure it out._

Isak prints the document, takes a breath, then texts Jonas for Even’s number. When he gets it, he texts Even.

 **Isak:** I know you hate me but can we meet? Soon?

 **Even:** Who is this?

 **Isak:** Isak. Got your number from Jonas.

 **Even:** Ok had to clarify

I have a lot of enemies :)

But I don’t hate you

Everything ok?

 **Isak:** No

I really am sorry about class today

 **Even:** Let’s just meet

Bar? In an hour?

 **Isak:** See you there

\---

Isak gets to the bar first and buys Even a beer. It’s becoming his asshole tax.

When Even arrives, he seems surprised by but appreciative of the gesture. “Thanks,” he says, taking a long drink. “Long fucking day.”

“I know,” Isak says. “Listen, you were right. I’m a dick for not standing up for you. I will next time.”

“I’m just tired of there always being a next time.”

“Me too.” That seems to pique Even’s interest, so Isak seizes his opportunity. “Ok, I don’t even know what this is, I was just fucking venting but….”

In the bravest thing he’s ever done, Isak pulls out the letter from his jacket and slides it across the table to Even, who hesitates before picking it up. “You want me to read this?” he asks. Isak nods. “Why not Jonas?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one who made me think about all this. I was so fucking angry seeing what class did to you, and yeah. I wrote this to try and ‘process my emotions’ or whatever.”

“I hope the letter’s more eloquent than that.”

Even grins. Isak laughs, grateful they’ve settled somewhere more relaxed. Though, that feeling disappears the moment Even begins to read: holy shit, why did he think it was a good idea to _show_ someone this? And with that anxious energy, Isak starts tapping his fingers on the table, in the exact annoying way Even does.

Until Even puts his hand on top of Isak’s.

The sudden heat is like an electric shock. Lifting his eyes off the letter, Even meets Isak’s gaze and mouths, _This ok_? Isak just nods because it feels nice; it’s helping calm him down. Even gives Isak’s hand a slight squeeze, then continues reading.

“Well,” Even says. “Someone ‘really fucking smart’ once told me that if you want to convince people of something, you need to get their attention. I think this’ll work.”

“Oh,” Isak says. “I didn’t—I wasn’t planning on _sending_ that. I said fuck a lot.”

Even laughs. “We can edit it. Maybe change the salutation too. If you don’t want to, that’s up to you, but you know it’ll mean more to them to hear from intellectuals. And we can make it totally anonymous.”

“I don’t even have any addresses. I’m not in a group.”

“That’s ok. We can send it to one on my list.”

Isak’s running out of excuses. “And I don’t want like, Jonas or Eva to read it, not yet—”

“I won’t show it to them. I’ll just say I have another friend who wanted to write something.”

“We’re friends?”

“Well, I was waiting for you to realize my friendship wouldn’t ruin your career. Seems like you may have come around.”

Isak laughs. “Yeah. It’s nice having someone else to talk to.” And saying that out loud triggers something else in his brain, something that feels important to say right now. “I know you’ve got a lot of other friends but, you know. You said you hate yourself today, and I’ve got some experience with that, so if you ever want someone else to talk to…I’m here.”

Even smiles, the real one.

“We could talk tonight?” Even says. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“It’s ok, I know you’re tired—”

“Isak. I’m telling you that I’d like to spend time with you tonight.”

Isak’s been waiting a long time to hear that, from anyone, and it feels as good as he needed it to.

“Let’s get some more beers then.”  


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hallo pals i am sorry it took a little while for this WOOPS, but here it is now!!! thank u for all the lovely comments and everything it has been so awesome to see u guys enjoying!!!!  
> hope u enjoy this too!

Even doesn’t like to separate anything in his life into parts. He doesn't like to be one thing sometimes, and something else at others. He doesn’t like putting things into boxes, giving a limit to things that don’t need one. That way, people have a chance to change, and grow.

But he’d be lying if he said Isak didn’t surprise him with the letter. And, above all, with choosing him to show it to, before Jonas or Eva, or anyone else.

Isak, willing to listen. Who would have thought?

Well, no one. But he could answer the alternative question - who would have hoped for it? Unquestionably, Even. And Jonas, and Eva and Magnus and everyone else who was at that meeting. 

At this point, Even is just excited to see what happens next. Who Isak could become, now that he’s open to new ideas. Now that he’s open to friendship.

There’s a few moments of silence between them, now that they’re sitting, with beers, and the offer on the table just to talk. Isak’s hands are fidgeting non-stop, and Even almost wants to take one again. But to take his hand once in an evening - it was a risk, even just as a way to comfort Isak. To take his hand twice would be - strange. Too intimate, for people who only just became friends. He starts talking instead, taking a sip of his beer to give him some courage first.

“Did I ever tell you that my parents are intellectuals?”

Isak shakes his head, but doesn’t seem too surprised. “Explains why you and Jonas are friends,” he says.

Even laughs. “Have you never wondered why the lover kids of intellectuals are the ones to start the revolution?”

Isak raises an eyebrow. “You’re all stuck in the rebellious teen phase?”

“Don’t revert back to being a good intellectual on me, Isak,” Even says. “That would be so disappointing.” He smiles at Isak to show that he’s joking. “No, but,” he continues, becoming serious again. “Seriously. Your mum, she’s important to you, right?”

“Yeah,” Isak says. “Obviously.”

“But because of this whole intellectuals being superior thing - you’d never be the disappointment to the family if you chose to be intellectual. But if you went from a family of intellectuals to being a lover…” he tails off, and shrugs.

Isak nods. “I know. Jonas always tried to tell me that was what was happening to Eva. I, uh, didn’t really listen.”

“I know,” Even smiles. “It’s okay. You can start now.”

Isak looks down. “I think it’s too late. Eva doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Thankfully, Even has memories of conversations from the night after the meeting, when they all went round to Mutta’s, to prove Isak wrong. 

“Has she told you that directly?” Even asks him, knowing that she hasn’t. “Or are you putting words into her mouth?”

“I...” Isak doesn’t finish. “I wouldn’t forgive me, if I was her,” he says eventually.

“Good thing you’re not her, then, isn’t it?” Even says. “Just talk to her.”

It takes a while for Isak to say anything in response - and when he does, he changes the subject. 

“So, when did you know you wanted to be a lover?”

Even shrugs with a nostalgic smile. “I’ve always been a bit of a romantic,” he says. “All my favourite books and movies when I was a kid - well, and now - were illegal.”

“But your parents let you watch them anyway?”

“God, no,” Even laughs. “Mikael showed me them. His whole family are lovers, they own the printing shop where my mum gets her work printed - she’s a designer - so that’s how we met. I used to hang out at his house for hours.”

Telling Isak all of this sparks an idea in his mind - a good idea - no, a bad one. Probably the most stupid idea he’s ever had - but wouldn’t it be good? To take Isak with him, to show him everything that made his childhood so full? 

Mikael would never allow it, though. There’s no point in even trying to ask him.

*

“Am I allowed to ask where we’re going?” Isak asks as he slides into the passenger seat the next day. 

“Am I allowed to tell you it's a surprise?” Even replies with a mischievous grin. 

Isak glares at him, but there's a quiet playfulness to it, and Even laughs as he starts the car. 

“Okay, fine. We're going to my friend Mikael’s place. He was at the meeting,” he says, in case Isak had forgotten - but he gets another, more unimpressed glare after saying this. 

“I did meet him,” Isak says scathingly. 

“There were lots of new faces, I was just making sure you remembered!” 

Isak shakes his head, but doesn't reply immediately.

“So - why are we going there?”

“You'll see,” Even says. 

“Jeez,” Isak sighs. “Just so you know, I’m expecting something mindblowing.”

All Even does is smile to himself at that.

*

It’s not long before they get there, and Even is getting out of the car to look up at the faded “we print anything!” sign. Isak follows a second later, and he follows Even’s gaze.

“So when Jonas said you know someone who can print stuff for us...” he says.

Even turns to look at him in awe. “You were actually listening in the meeting?”

Isak scoffs. “I mean, I’m not fucking rude.” He rolls his eyes when Even raises a teasing eyebrow at him. 

“”We’re not here to print anything, anyway,” Even says. “But come in.”

Mikael is behind the counter, as he promised he’d be when Even texted him last night. He’s giving Even the look that Even could see through his texts, of narrow eyed suspicion.

He doesn’t even greet either of them. “You sure about this?” he asks instead when Even reaches him, in a voice too low for Isak to hear from his place at the doorway of the shop.

Even nods sincerely. “Really, I am,” he says. “I think it’ll help him.”

“And you definitely trust him?”

“Like I said, Mik, I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t sure about him.”

Isak stops looking around the shop from the door, and steps closer, a curious look on his face.

“What’s going on?” he asks. Even replies with a grin.

“I’m about to blow your mind.”

Mikael slaps him around the head. “Don’t be fucking weird. Isak, come round to the back,” he says, opening the little gate in the counter. “What Even is trying to be mysterious about is that we have the archives back here.”

“You’re so fucking mean to me,” Even mutters, rubbing the back of his head and following Isak through as he asks “archives of what?”

“Love,” Mikael says, coming in behind them. “All the censored art and books and movies and music. If you need anything I'll be out front,” he shuts the door behind them, and Even turns his attention to Isak. 

Okay, so he's not mind blown. But he does look pretty in awe right now, eyes darting around from bookshelf to bookshelf, to the art and the quotes on the walls (that Even has always thought of as somewhat cheesy, but still, Isak seems to read them all without too much of a negative reaction) It's - a nice sight, actually. To see Isak take this all in, calmly, and even seeming like he could, like he  _ wants  _ to learn from it. 

He looks back to Even after a minute, and Even grins. “This is where I learnt it all.”

“And it's all illegal?” Isak asks, continuing at Even’s nod. “God, it's no wonder you're always ready to argue in class.”

Even laughs. “There's even more stuff downstairs.”

“More?”

“There's more love in the world than you realise.”

He expects Isak to roll his eyes at that - but it's not what he gets. Instead, Isak turns away from him, to look closer at some of the books on the shelves, and Even sees that look settle on his face, the one he gets when he doesn't think he's being watched - although, he knows he's being watched. Perhaps it's more accurate to define it as the look he gets when he's comfortable, relaxed, letting his guard down. Letting himself feel something. 

“So, what's your favourite thing in here?” Isak asks eventually. 

“You think I can choose one favourite?” 

Isak shrugs, letting out a soft laugh. “Obviously not. So where do I start?”

“Downstairs,” Even replies as he leads the way. “there are movies down here.”

The basement is where Even feels most at home. There are three rooms, all set up with bookshelves and art lining the walls, and comfy arm chairs and tables in the middle. It serves as a kind of library, and there are a couple of people sitting in the main room, reading. Even doesn’t recognise either of them, but that’s no surprise. He hasn’t been here in a while. 

He stops short when he leads Isak through to the second room. There, in the middle of the wall, is the art he painted when he first started dating Mikael. 

It’s a simple piece of artwork, but it’s probably Even’s best. All it shows is two hands, linked together - his and Mikael’s, although no one knows that but them. There are wristbands, around each hand, one declaring “intellectual” and one “lover” which in Even’s opinion, is where it falls short. No one has fucking wristbands, there’s only the ID cards to tell people apart. But when he painted it, he wasn’t exactly going for realism. He just wanted to make a point.

Isak notices him staring, and gives him a strange look.

“I painted that,” Even explains. “I didn't think it would still be here.”

“It's good,” Isak says quietly. “I see what you mean about distributing artwork that romanticises love, though.”

“Well, when you're in love, you want to show it off,”

“You painted this when you were in love?”

“Is that not obvious?” Even asks, tiling his head to the side. 

Isak shrugs. “I don't really know. I don't usually get art.”

“There's not much to get,” Even says. “But I really liked someone, and my parents are intellectuals, and the system is what it is, so I got creative.”

“It seems like the sort of thing you'd draw without being in love,” Isak says, then backtracks. “Or, I don't know, would you? You just always seem - I mean-” he cuts himself off, turning slightly pink. 

Even smiles at him. “You're probably right. Although I might never have decided to be a lover had it not been for my ex.”

“Yep, I changed your fucking life, you're welcome,” Mikael says, entering the room behind them. He grins at Evens confused stare. “I got Maryam to cover for me so I could check up on you losers.”

“I still know my way around,” Even tells him, shaking his head. “It's not been that long. Just admit you can't bear to spend time away from me.”

Mikael laughs. “Okay, sure.”

Even looks back at Isak, to see a dawning realisation on his face. 

“ _ Mikael _ is your ex?” he asks, incredulous, and Even realises he never told him a name. He looks down, smile a mixture of embarrassment and nostalgia.

“We were fourteen,” he says. “In our defense.”

“Fifteen,” interrupts Mikael, grinning widely at Even’s humiliation, throwing an arm round his shoulders, and turning to Isak. “He was, like, super in love with me. Eventually I caved and let him kiss me.”

“Oh, yeah, of course that’s how it went,” Even says sarcastically. “Not you and Yousef conspiring behind my back so that we could play truth or dare and he could dare me to kiss you.”

Mikael makes a  _ tsk  _ sound. “As if I wasn’t just doing it to be nice.”

Even shakes his head. “You are unbelievable.”

“You love me,” Mikael replies quickly.

“Used to,” Even teases back.

Mikael laughs, and walks away with a “well, come and find me if you need anything!” and leaving them alone. Even looks back at Isak to find a strange expression on his face, as if he’s torn between confusion, and a smile, and something else that Even can’t place.

Even’s wide teasing grin settles back into the quiet smile he’s reserved for Isak. “It doesn’t always end badly,” he says quietly. “Even if it does end.”

“But you seem like you still...” Isak says, tailing off at the end. 

Even shakes his head. “That’s what everyone says,” he laughs. “But it’s not like that. There’s always going to be something there, you know? But at the end of the day we’ve been best friends since we were six, long before anything romantic happened.”

“But weren’t you - scared?” asks Isak. “Before you, uh, kissed him. Didn’t you think it could ruin everything?”

“I’ve never been more terrified,” admits Even. “But sometimes you have to be for the best things to happen.”

Isak doesn’t reply, but stays looking at even for a while, that same look on his face. Even looks back, using the seconds to try and work Isak out some more, but coming no closer.

“Hey, we should watch a movie,” he says, to interrupt his own thoughts. 

To his surprise, Isak agrees. “But just so you know, Jonas and Eva made me watch a romcom once and I hated it,” he says. “It's actually the main reason I'm an intellectual.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Even laughs, leading him into the last room, walls lined with shelves of movies, and big comfy sofas in the middle all faced towards a TV on the wall. “But there's other movies.”

It only takes a few seconds of searching for him to find the perfect one, and he picks it from the shelf, spinning to face Isak with a grin on his face. “We could watch  _ Beauty And The Beast _ . _ ” _

The look Isak gives him is impossible to decipher. Even can’t tell if he even likes the idea, or if he’s considering leaving this minute.

“You want us to watch a fairy tale,” Isak says finally. “Really?”

“Why not?”

Isak doesn’t have a good answer, it seems, so they settle, at each end of a sofa.

Five minutes in and Isak scoffs. “Oh, and it’s a musical too. I’m going to love this.”

“Just go with it,” Even tells him. “It’s heartwarming.”

“Is it?”

“Shut up and watch the movie.”

He does, and Even can’t resist glancing to the side every so often to see his smile.

 

  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, how are we all doing at processing the bloopers? My way is of continuing to write fic so Skam never actually ends. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Isak’s late getting home.

His mom’s sitting at the kitchen table when he gets in, doing a crossword puzzle from the book Isak got her. He picked it up after she did one online and said something about it being nice to feel smart again. At the time, Isak believed feeling smart was better than feeling anything else.

And now, he’s spent a day with Even.

“Been awhile since I’ve waited up for you.”

Isak’s mom raises an eyebrow at him, causing his stomach to churn at the guilt of making her worry. It’s just that one movie turned into two, and Isak wanted to look at some of the books, and more of Even’s artwork….

“Yeah, sorry,” Isak says as he shrugs off his coat and sits down across from her, buying time to build his lie. “I was hanging out with Jonas after class and we lost track of time, I guess.”

Every time Isak played with someone in elementary school, he’d report back to his parents that he’d made a new friend, proceeding to tell them everything about his friend a seven-year-old could know about a person.  When he reached middle school, his dad suggested he should focus on his homework instead, and Isak listened. On the rare occasion he met someone other than Jonas or Eva who he’d consider a friend, he never told his parents about them, reminding himself those relationships weren’t going to last past graduation anyway.

And his mom gets paranoid about the neighbours they’ve lived next to as long as Isak’s been alive, let alone strangers. Why would he stress her out by telling her about Even when he can just lie?

“You should’ve invited Jonas over here,” she says. “I worry about him.”

But it doesn’t matter what the fuck Isak does, because he can’t take her fear away. Still, he’s confused that it’s directed towards Jonas: she always liked him, grateful Isak had somewhere to go when she couldn’t give him the home he needed. “You do?”

“I still talk to his mom sometimes, you know?” Isak shakes his head: he assumed they graduated from that friendship when their sons got their diplomas. “It’s hard for any kid to be cut off from their parents. Hard on her, too.”

Isak recalls what Even said last night, about being the disappointment of his family. How anyone could be disappointed in Even, Jonas, or Eva, Isak just can’t understand. It kind of infuriates him.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re home now,” his mom says, changing the subject before Isak’s ready to. “I need my live-in genius to help me with fourteen across.”

“Mom,” Isak says, but no anger comes out with his voice. In fact, he can barely get it out at all, the word he’s said so many times getting caught somewhere in his throat. “What would you have thought if I’d chosen to be a lover?”

His mom studies him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed like this is a clue even more difficult than fourteen across. “Isak,” she says. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be safe and happy.”

“Do you think I could be those things as a lover?”

“I think it’s easier as an intellectual.” She pauses, waiting for a reaction Isak doesn’t know how to give yet. “It’s normal for people your age to question their status, Isak. It’s a big decision, and you’re so young.”

And now it’s Isak’s turn to wait, for the comfort that’s supposed to follow that kind of reassurance: _but this too shall pass_. When it doesn’t come, his mom’s eyes drift back to her crossword puzzle.

“You didn’t really have a choice, did you?” Isak asks. “Because of….”

“Because you can’t trust crazy people to make a choice,” she finishes, laughing the way someone does when they’ve learned to make something a joke—Eva does it a lot. His mom looks back up at him and continues, “But I’m fine, Isak. I don’t know what I would have chosen, to be honest. All I know is that everything’s worked out how it was meant to.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I have you.”

Isak smiles, though the guilt’s sinking in. For all Isak’s complained about his home life to Jonas and Eva, he has something with his mom that they’ve lost.

“Sweetheart,” his mom continues, the only person to ever recognize that in him. “If you’re struggling with your status, there are resources out there, support groups….”

It’s really not that. Isak just doesn’t think he should have a fucking status at all. But for the sake of easing his mom’s mind, he says, “Yeah. I’ll look into those.”

“Good. Now, don’t think you’re getting out of helping me with his. We’re not leaving this table until we have fourteen across.”

Isak laughs. “Ok. Deal.”

He ends up finishing up the rest of the puzzle with her, teasing when he gets the answers first, prompting his mom to say his status should be smartass. But they’re laughing, and it’s easy, and everything feels really nice for once.

When they’re done, he goes to his room to sleep, not even pretending to himself that he’s going to study. But as Isak lies down, his thoughts fill with Even, and he doesn’t want to trade those thoughts for whatever bullshit his subconscious will come up with.

Because it’s nice, to remember Even singing along to Beauty and the Beast, off-key but full of passion. Nudging Isak at the lyrics _bittersweet and sweet, finding you can change, learning you were wrong._ Laughing at all the jokes like he was hearing them for the first time.

Isak grabs his phone from his nightstand: he can’t let this good day end without thanking Even for it.

 **Isak:** Hi Even. It was nice hanging out with you today. Maybe we can do it again some time?

 **Even:** Why are you texting like you’re 40

But it was nice for me too

Be Our Guest anytime :) :) :)

 **Isak** : Haha :)

Isak rests his phone on his chest, imagining how Even would draw this, a boy who can’t sleep because his heart’s beating too fast.

\---

“So,” Jonas says at the next revolutionary meeting. “We have an issue.”

Even nudges Isak and whispers, “Not a very inspiring start, is it?”

Isak grins, a little smug that though Even’s sitting in-between him and Mikael, he chose Isak to speak to. “I think the ‘I have a dream’ part comes later.”

“Ah, it would be a good closer for Act One. He can give out protest signs at intermission, right when everyone’s inspired.”

“I should tell him that free beer would motivate me more. Or fuck, even just pizza.”

“Very reasonable.”

“Practically generous.” A wad of paper hits Isak in the cheek. He looks away from Even to find the source: Jonas. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Do I have to separate you?” Jonas asks, but his expression is more confused than annoyed. “Assign seating?”

“Assigned seating’s the only reason we’re friends,” Isak says.

“Anyway,” Jonas says. “The issue is that we’ve heard shit all from the government since we sent the letters.”

“Ok?” Eva says. “But it’s been what, two weeks? You know how slowly things move there. My mom’s been working on the same project for five years.”

“Do you want to keep living like this for five years?” Jonas directs the question towards the entire table. Somewhat remarkably, everyone who was at the last meeting came back—even Sana. Her research must’ve proved its worth, and Isak feels validated with her here. “All to what, get a form letter saying they’re ‘taking our ideas into consideration?’ Fuck that.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” Mahdi asks.

“Well, we—” Jonas begins, but Sana cuts him off.

“Here’s what we do,” she says, pulling a binder out of her backpack. Ignoring everyone’s stares, she opens her binder and continues, “A few of us have been writing to organizations that support people who’ve been charged with love. They’re already doing great work, and I’ve outlined a number of initiatives we can help them with. Right, Noora?”

Noora’s caught off guard, but she nods. “Uh, yeah. Things like helping people with criminal records find employment, or even helping them with pardon applications. And they’re open to partnering with us.”

“Yeah, that’s all great,” Jonas says. “But what are they doing to change the system?”

“Changing perceptions?” Yousef offers. “It’s like anything else. The more you get to know someone, and the more you learn about their story, the more empathetic you become. Once people realize these offenders haven’t really done anything wrong, the system will have to change.”

“No,” Jonas says.

“ _No_?” Sana repeats.

“No, that doesn’t fucking work. Most people are going to do whatever the fuck’s easiest, no matter how ‘empathetic’ they claim to be. We don’t have fifty, sixty years to wait until they care enough to get off their ass and do something. We need to change the system now, and people will adapt like they adapt to everything else.”

“But how do we do that if no one will talk to us?” Eva says.

“We make them.”

“Oh, when you put it that way.”

Jonas rolls his eyes as Chris asks, “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean we don’t hide behind letters anymore. We go to their offices and stand outside until someone talks to us.”

“How do you know they’ll talk to us?” Magnus asks.

“Because they’re our parents,” Jonas says, gesturing to himself and Eva. “It’s supposed to be fucking freezing on Friday. They’re not going to leave us standing outside in the cold.”

Throughout the meeting, Isak’s thought that Jonas was a little more irritable and a lot more stubborn than usual, and now he understands why. His parents, who are apparently heartbroken over being cut off from him, won’t even answer a fucking letter. And that’s really infuriating.

“Yeah, count me out then,” Sana says.

“What?” Isak says. “Why?”

She seems as confused that he’s asking as he was when she took over the meeting. “Because I can’t be seen at a protest if I want to get into a good residency. You should consider that too, Isak.”

She’s right, but Isak can’t stomach the thought of not helping Jonas at this point, not with the shit the system’s put him through.

“It’s not a protest,” Jonas says. “We’re not going to disrupt anything. It’s not illegal to stand outside a building. It’s the same as helping those organizations: you’re just pissed we’re not going with your idea.”  

“But it’s a lot more visible than what Sana proposed,” Mikael says. “The rest of don’t have friends in high places like you and Eva do. You might get a warning, but we’ll get arrested.”

Isak thinks of the print shop, where he’s actually spent a lot of time over these past two weeks with Even. Losing a spot like that, with all that love, would be bad for the world.

“They’ve got a point,” Isak says. “We just need a small group, anyway. It won’t matter how many people are there as long as you and Eva are.”

“But you’ll come?” Jonas asks, eyebrows knitted together in the same confused expression he wore earlier. “You didn’t even write a letter.”

“Then let me do my part now,” Isak says because it’s easier than explaining. “I’ll come.”

Jonas nods. “Ok, fuck it. Whoever wants to come, awesome, but don’t feel pressured. This is still just the beginning of whatever the fuck we’re doing, so I hope you’ll keep coming out to these meetings.”

“Sana,” Eva says. “You should still look into partnering with those organizations. It’s a good, practical idea. And if you need help, we’re all here for you.”

Eva proceeds to glare at Jonas until he eventually says, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

The rest of the meeting is working out logistics, and they ultimately decide to be at the government building when it opens at 8:30AM on Friday, staying however long they need to.

“You’re going, right?” Isak asks Even as everyone’s packing up to leave.

“Are you kidding?” Even asks. “I was a bit disappointed in letter-writing because a revolution should be sexy—”

“Of course.”

“But this is going to be fucking awesome. Or we’ll freeze our assess off, but at least we can spend the day together.”

Isak smiles. He’ll fight for whatever world lets him and Even spend the day together.

\---

The not-protest is not sexy. It’s just fucking cold.

When the offices opened, the receptionist informed them that no one in the policy department was available to talk to them, but they could request a meeting via email. “We value the public’s opinion, of course,” he said. “But these things are typically booked months in advance.”

“Including the months it takes for someone to reply to the email?” Jonas asked.

“As you’ll understand, our staff have other priorities—”

“Can you tell them it’s Jonas Vasquez and Eva Kviig Mohn requesting this meeting?”

Eva rolled her eyes, but it did seem to change the receptionist’s attitude. “I’ll make the calls,” he said. “But I can’t promise you anything, and either way, it’s going to be a wait.”

“That’s fine. We’ll just be outside.”

They’re been outside for four fucking hours, and as they watch staff leave for their lunch break without a second glance at them, Isak’s losing hope.

“Shit, Isak. You’re bright red.”

Isak turns at Even’s voice, grateful he’s finally ended his twenty-minute conversation with Mutta. The only good thing about this has been talking to him. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, you lying about being fine is more of a two-weeks-ago thing. Didn’t you get the memo?”

“I set-up my email so anything from you goes in my spam folder.”

“Harsh. And to think, I was going to offer to warm you up.”

Isak raises his eyebrows, Even makes no claim that he’s not flirting with Isak, and Isak…doesn’t care. He’s just so fucking cold: he’d accept warmth from anyone.

But it’s nice from Even, as Isak realizes when Even envelops him in a tight hug. Though Even’s bundled up in a large coat, scarf, and gloves, it still feels like him. “Better?” Even whispers.

“Mm. Thanks.”

Over Even’s shoulder, Isak catches Jonas looking at them. Isak breaks the hug to go talk to him, but Eva gets to Jonas first. She’s not even with him for a minute before she walks away like she’s on a mission, but she just goes to sit against the building by herself.

Isak can’t live with the pit in his stomach anymore.

“I think I’m going to…,” he trails off.

“Go,” Even says. “She’ll be glad to talk to you.”

Isak’s not convinced of that, but he makes his way over to Eva anyway, sliding down beside her. She doesn’t acknowledge him, and Isak knows it’s on him to fix this.

“Hey,” he says. “Cold, right?”

Eva sighs, closing her eyes. “Isak, I don’t know what the fuck you’re trying to do, but I am really not in the mood for it right now. Please, just leave me alone.”

Isak recalls his conversation with Even after he fought with Vilde. Fuck, he’s managed to make everyone hate him, but he fixed things with Even. He has to try here.

“I’m just here to see if you’re ok.”

Eva opens her eyes and looks at him. “Did Jonas send you?”

“No.”

“Cool, so you’ve decided we’re friends again? You’ve got to keep me updated on your schedule for that, Isak. I’ll put it in my phone.”

“Yeah, no, I deserve that.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry,” Isak says. “For blowing you off after we graduated, some of the shit I said—fuck, even some of what I thought.”

“About lovers?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t thinking those things about _you_ , like I didn’t have you in mind…just lovers in general.”

“Right. ‘Some of my best friends are lovers’ logic. As long as you’re judging lovers, you’re judging me.”

She’s right, and it would be terrible for the pit in Isak’s stomach if he weren’t having this conversation, but now he’s determined to see it through. He owes Eva that much.

“I’m really sorry,” Isak says. “I was just an asshole. And I get if you can’t forgive me, but all I can tell you now is that I am trying to change. Even’s, uh, helped me understand the shit you go through as a lover, but also that the system’s just fucked up. I’m here because I want a revolution.”

It’s the first time Isak’s really voiced that out loud, and it’s almost empowering. Eva looks away from him and mumbles, “Fuck.”

“What?

“You, Isak. I don’t think I can stay mad at you.”

Isak laughs. “Is that a problem?”

Eva turns back towards him and smiles. “Yeah! I was very determined to be pissed at you forever. But then you went and apologized, and you’re trying…and I’ve just missed you. And I know the system hasn't exactly been fair to you, either.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

“Well, if that’s settled,” Eva says, wiping her hands. “We should just go home. Fuck, I told Jonas this wouldn’t work. I told him I didn’t want to do it, but he’s been so fucking stubborn lately.”

Isak remembers why he approached Eva in the first place. “Are you ok?”

“Isak, what do you think of the coat I’m wearing?”

Thrown by the sudden change of subject, Isak blurts out, “Uh, it’s nice,” before he’s really looked at it. Once he processes it, he adds, “Maybe a little light for how cold it is?”

“My mom used to get on me for wearing the wrong coat for the weather. She was probably more concerned about hypothermia than she needed to be.”

Isak laughs. “My mom does the same thing.”

“So I thought if I came here today, and she saw that I was cold,” Eva says, voice cracking on the last word. “She’d at least come out and give me a sweater, force me to wear her coat, _something_ …but she won’t even talk to me.”

“I’m really, really sorry Eva. That’s not right.”

“God, you can’t understand it Isak,” Eva says. “When I turned eighteen and made my choice, I lost everyone but Jonas. And even before that, all the pressure to be an intellectual…I don’t know, I never understood what could be wrong about loving someone.”

Isak understands something new about Eva, something he should have realized when he met her: she absolutely could have been an intellectual. She is smart, and in some ways, much smarter than Isak himself. She just doesn’t live in a society that values emotional intelligence, but is in fucking desperate need of it.

“Maybe nothing,” Isak says. “I mean yeah, it can go to shit, but it can also turn out ok.”

Eva nods, hesitating before she says, “You and Even have gotten close.”

“Uh, yeah. Kind of.”

“I hope you don’t feel guilty about that.”

Isak will not name his exact feelings for Even, but they are true, undeniable feelings. It is also true and undeniable that the system still exists, that Isak is an intellectual and that Even is a lover, so what could he even do?

“I’m trying not to.”

“We can change things,” Eva says. “I do believe that, but fuck, this is not the way to do it.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I mean, I liked Sana’s idea, but I also saw Jonas’s point that we need to take action. But this isn’t taking action, no one cares that we’re here. We have to give them a reason to care.”

“By?”

“Actual protest. Block traffic, disrupt the peace, maybe get some media attention.”

Eva, Isak remembers, is a bit of a badass.

“I’ll tell Jonas we should give up on today,” Isak says. “But at the next meeting, we can talk about that.”

Isak gets up to do as promised, confused when Eva stands up as well. She goes in for a hug, and Isak regrets ever thinking her friendship wasn’t worth his time.

“Thanks for forgiving me,” he says.

“Thanks for changing.”

And that’s almost inspiring: if Isak can change, surely society can as well.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello merry chrimbo eve eve eve eve! hope u enjoy this chapter, i managed to throw some Fun Tropes in there as a christmas present to myself :D

Even comes homes to silence.

It’s not as though he doesn’t expect it. He lives alone, it’s no surprise that it’s quiet. But after spending the day outside, with friends, and with Isak, the silence feels heavy.

It’s strange how Isak still doesn’t come under the category of friends. Despite clarifying that yes, Isak has realised their friendship won’t hurt him - Isak even considers Even a friend, Even still separates them in his head - friends and Isak.

He tries calling Isak a friend, but still - it doesn’t work. Maybe it’s just that he’s an intellectual, and it still feels strange. 

But Sana's a friend and an intellectual - although he knew her before, so that makes sense. He wouldn't consider Noora a friend. They haven't talked as much as he and Isak have, but still, that must be it. Society getting into his head about who he can associate with. 

The silence doesn’t get any nicer, so he puts on some music. It fills up the empty spaces in his room, and makes it easier for him to function. 

The song that plays is the first song he showed Isak, that day in the car. When Isak had been so sure that he wouldn't ever fall in love. And now, with the changes he's seen in Isak over the weeks - he wonders if that's true anymore. If he's still certain beyond a doubt that love isn't made for him, or if maybe he's started to let himself feel, to believe that he can. 

Even is so wrapped up thinking about it that he doesn't appreciate the song at all. 

*

He wakes up the next morning to yet more silence, and the dream he'd had the night before comes back to him in snatches. 

It makes sense as to why he doesn't consider Isak a friend anymore. 

It also makes things a hell of a lot more complicated. 

*

He can't sit still through the next meeting. Isak is on his right hand side, and their seats are closer together than - no, they're just as close as they were last time. Isak brushes against him occasionally, nudges him on occasion with an easy smile or a joke, and Even doesn't fake his laugh, but he also doesn't fake the way his eyes linger on Isak longer than they should. 

Eva takes the lead in this meeting, and Even can't help but notice the pride on Isak’s face. 

“Being respectful, following the rules - none of that's going to work,” Eva says. “They won't listen to us unless we make it impossible for them not to,” she takes a deep breath. “But it’s going to make us more visible, and we’re going to need a lot more support.”

“Are there ways for us to help behind the scenes?” Sana asks. “I’m - sorry, I just think if this doesn’t work, I have a lot to lose.”

Eva sighs, deflating a little. “I - we all do, though,” she says. “If we don’t take risks, we won’t get anywhere.”

“Maybe we need to start with people,” Even says. “Gather more support. The more people there are standing with us, the less they’ll be able to punish us.”

“I can guarantee about 90% of lovers will stand with us by default,” says Mikael. “None of us like being seen as  _ less than _ .”

“But it’s intellectuals that are going to have the effect,” Eva says. “I know none of us like to admit it, but no one listens to us. Last week, when we were out there, we only had one intellectual, and none of us made it known that he was one. So no one paid the least bit of attention to us.”

Even doesn’t miss the way that Eva’s eyes slide across to him from Isak as she says this, but he tries not to think too much of it.

“It’s a vicious circle, then, isn’t it?” Isak says. “We need support to get attention, we need attention to get support. What are we supposed to do with that?”

He sounds as though he’s wavering a little in his hope. Even can’t have that.

“I might have something,” he says quietly. “It might be completely fucking stupid, and I might get arrested, but-”

Isak looks at him with wide-eyed concern, and he responds to it with a half hearted laugh, and a warm feeling.

“The best way to get attention is to catch people’s eyes,” he says. “If I can paint something big enough in an obvious enough place, people might take notice. And if I don’t get caught, none of us have to be visible.”

He notices the pure delight on Mikael and Yousef’s faces when he finally brings himself to look away from the awe on Isak’s.

“Yes, Even, my man!” Mutta exclaims, clapping a hand down on his shoulder.

Eva’s eyes are still narrowed. “Are you any good?”

Even Sana jumps to his defense after this one. Even can't help but want to hide his face, but more than that he wants to savour the sight of Isak in front of him, telling Eva “yeah, he's fucking good.”

*

After the meeting, when everyone gathers outside, it's second nature for Even to slide his arm around Isak’s shoulders and ask if he wants to join them - Yousef, Mikael and Mutta - for a drink. 

He notices Isak’s lack of a reaction more than anything. Just a simple smile, and a “yeah, sounds good.”

It ends up being quite a few of them - Jonas, Eva and Magnús join too, and they head to the bar, smiles and words flowing easily between all of them. 

Until, half an hour in, when Yousef checks his phone, and grins. “Elias and Adam are gonna join us for a bit, if that's cool with you guys?”

Even exchanges a look with Mikael, but Mutta is nodding and saying “awesome!” before either of them can protest.

Even is just grateful he'd already started to roll a cigarette, and it doesn't look too weird when he quickly goes to escape outside. 

“Wanna come with?” he offers Mikael as he stands. 

“No, I’m alright. Thanks, though,” he smiles gratefully. 

“Okay, back in a minute,” he says. 

It's cold enough outside to distract him from anything going on inside. He doesn't know when Elias is going to show up, and maybe they won't even be there yet when he's done, but he needs to breathe before he sees him, even if he's breathing poison. 

He hears the door open and shut next to him, but pays no mind until someone leans on the wall next to him. 

“You alright?” Isak says, and Even turns to look at him in confusion. “I saw your hands,” he explains with a smile, and Even knows he must have been curling and uncurling them - still is with the hand not holding the cigarette. 

He breathes out a laugh, and tries to return Isaks smile. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I'm fine. It's just - yeah.” A long story. 

“Elias?” Isak asks, and Even nods. “Isn't he Sana's brother?”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Intellectual?”

Even nods again. “Reminds me a lot of you, actually,” he realises. “Not how you are now, though.”

“Oh,” Isak says, and Even gets the sense that he understands. “So you were friends?”

Even shrugs. “It’s a long story.” Isak looks at him expectantly. “Did I ever tell you about Sonja?”

“You mentioned her,” Isak says. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

“It might change how you see me,” Even says with a self conscious smile. “But I - if you want to hear it, I mean, any excuse not to go back inside yet, right?”

“Right,” Isak agrees. “It's fucking loud in there anyway.”

“Yeah,” Even says, taking a drag of his cigarette before he starts. “So I - when I broke up with Mikael, it wasn't perfect straight away, right? I mean, we couldn't go straight back just to being best friends. So I, uh, found new people to hang out with, Elias and Sonja and a few others. They, uh, and I, for a while, intended to be intellectuals.”

He looks across at Isak to see what his reaction is, but it's difficult to discern. There’s surprise there, but there’s understanding, too.

“I don’t blame you,” Isak says quietly. “I decided what I wanted to be when I saw what happened to my parents.”

“But - you know - that’s not always-” he quickly tries to backtrack, to reassure Isak, but Isak seems to know what he wants to say.

“Relax, Even,” he smiles. “I’m not changing my mind again.”

“Okay,” Even says, exhaling slowly. “Okay, so. These new friends, they all wanted to be intellectuals, but Sonja - she didn’t want to go into her future without knowing what it was like to fall in love, or at least to have something with someone - which turned out to be me. We dated for a few months, until I started to realise that being intellectual wasn’t what I wanted at all, but I didn’t want to break up with her, so I didn’t tell her.” He sighs. “Eventually she found out - I mean, they all found out, and they were - complete fucking assholes about it.”

“Wonder why they reminded you of me,” Isak says, and Even huffs out a laugh before explaining.

“You at least changed your mind when you heard the shit Vilde was saying. Sonja’s parents, and some of my teachers and stuff, though, they - said exactly that stuff to me, and Elias, and all the others, did fuck all to defend me. I think they even kind of agreed.”

“Shit,” Isak mutters. “I’m sorry. That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah, it kinda did,” Even says, “I haven’t really spoken to any of them since then. But Yousef, and Mutta - well, and all of us really, keep just holding onto that time when we were twelve and all six of us would just hang out together, and not care about what we were gonna be.”

Isak slowly lifts his hand, and places it on Even’s shoulder, squeezing lightly, and Even can’t help his smile. 

“If I can change my mind, though,” Isak says, leaving the rest of the sentence implied.

“I don't think you were ever as bad as you think you were,” Even says. “I mean, you stayed friends with Jonas. You followed him to a revolutionary meeting.”

“I…” Isak doesn't seem to have a good response. “But Yousef is a lover, right? Maybe Elias isn't as bad as you think either.”

“Yeah,” Even says quietly. “Maybe.”

It’s not - altogether horrible, when Isak finally encourages him back inside. It’s just a little awkward, as though the atmosphere has shifted. 

Elias sits across the table and tries to smile at Even, goes so far as to ask him how he is, and Even replies as calmly as he can, but as soon as he can justify it, he turns back to Mikael and Isak, and tries to breathe.

At some point in the evening, he rests his head down on MIkael’s shoulder, and watches Isak, from Mikael’s other side, smile at him softly, in a way that definitely isn’t just meant for him, but he can let himself pretend.

Mikael strokes Even’s hair for a second, sighing. “Go the fuck to bed, Even,” he says. 

“Fuck you,” Even replies, lifting his head up, and realising, actually, yeah, good idea. “Fine,” he mutters, scowling at Mikael’s grin. “Anyone need a lift home?”

After the typical minutes of confusion that always follows a question like that, it turns out that the answer is just Isak. Obviously.

It’s a quiet drive for all of five minutes, when Isak speaks up.

“So - what are you gonna paint?”

Even shrugs the question away at first, with a “haven’t decided yet,” but after a moment’s consideration, changes his answer. “I’m gonna go over to Mikael’s at the weekend and plan, I think. Want to join?”

Isak smiles. “I’d love to.”

They reach the end of Isak’s road, and Even pulls in. 

“Here, yeah?”

Isak nods. “Thanks.” He makes no move to get out of the car. “Do you still talk to your parents?” he asks, out of nowhere. “I know you said you thought they were disappointed in you, but - do you speak to them?”

Even looks away. “Uh, no. Why?”

“I - it’s just, messed up. The only sort of love intellectuals are allowed to have is for their kids, and some of th- some of us don’t even want that. Like, Eva’s mum wouldn’t come out to see her last week. It just - sometimes it seems like we really fucking don’t feel anything.”

“But you-” Even cuts himself off. He knows well enough what it’s like to be told how to feel. “Is that how you feel?”

Isak shrugs. “No,” he says quietly. “But it probably should be.”

“Feeling things isn't wrong, though.” 

“Not for you,” Isak says. “You do know how this works, right?”

Even sighs. “Unfortunately, yes. But it's - like, intellectuals can feel. My mum is - like,  _ I'm _ the reason we don't talk, because I won't answer her messages. She doesn’t want to be a lover but - I think she feels more than I do, sometimes.”

Isak hesitates for a moment, then dispels the tension in the car with a grin. “Is that even possible?”

Even laughs. “Yeah, okay. Probably not.”

“Okay, well - I should go,” Isak says finally. “Thanks for - everything. I’ll text you?”

Even smiles and nods, and almost says “I’d like that” but it sounds too eager even for him. He sticks with a simple goodbye, and watches Isak walk down the street before taking his phone out and scrolling back to his mother’s texts. 

The last one she sent had been two days ago. 

_ “Found your favourite shirt down the back of your wardrobe. I can drop it by your room if you'd like?” _

He sends a  _ yes please _ and narrowly avoids adding  _ mikael said you'd join a revolution if i asked you to, will you? _

*

Even’s been at Mikael’s for nearly an hour by the time Isak arrives. 

All of his sketchbooks are spread out in a circle around him on the floor, and half of the old artwork he could find from around Mikael’s basement. He’s narrowed it down to four ideas, and a list of possible locations.

Mutta is on the sofa next to him, setting up an instagram account for a revolution. 

“Even, move out the way, I have to take photos of your artistic process.”

Even rolls his eyes and shuffles backwards for the third time today. “If you post too much you’ll lose the element of surprise. Do I have to remind you that that’s why we’re doing this?”

“Relax, man,” Mutta says. “I’m not posting these yet. Just some cryptic spray paint bottles. It’s gonna be epic, trust.”

“Great, all three of your followers can get hyped.”

“Twenty seven, actually.”

“Impressive,” Even says sarcastically. “How many of them are bots?”

Mutta just sighs. “Whatever. We’ll get attention once you do your thing. Just remember to write the username.”

“Gotcha,” Even says. “Make sure everyone knows the only reason we’re doing this is to get instagram followers.”

“God, fuck off,” Mutta says. “Eva said this was a good idea to see how much attention we’re getting.”

“Hey, guys,” Isak walks in at that moment. “What's up?” 

“Mutta’s being an attention seeker,” Even grins, ignoring Mutta’s indignant “hey!”. “How are you?”

“Good,” Isak says, sitting down next to Mutta. “So what else did I miss?”

“Not much. I need your opinion,” Even says. “Which of these should I use?”

He shows Isak the four options, and Mutta scowls. 

“But you couldn’t ask my opinion, of course.”

Even rolls his eyes. “I’m asking both of you.” Sort of. “I just need to know which one is going to be the most effective.”

Isak hesitates for a moment. “I mean - I already told you I don’t get art. They’re all, uh, cool.”

“Thanks, but which one makes you f- like, react the most?”

“I’m, uh,” Isak has a bewildered expression, and Even starts to regret asking him so forcefully. He manages to come to a decision, though. “That one. It’s the one on the wall in the other room, right?”

He’s chosen the painting Even showed him when he first came here, of the two linked hands. It’s, actually, the one that Even wanted him to choose. Easy to make a big version, and effective in its simplicity.

“Not that you care,” Mutta pipes up. “But I would choose that one too.”

Of course he cares - Mutta’s one of his best friends. It’s just that he’d kind of forgotten he was there.

*

**Isak:** Good luck tonight

let me know how it goes

**Even:** with any luck you’ll find out without me telling you

if the news spreads like we want it to

**Isak:** fingers crossed

but tell me anyway?

**Even:** of course :D

*

Mutta yawns. 

In his defense, it’s two in the morning. They’re at Mutta’s apartment, getting ready to leave.

“I can’t believe you would let Mikael sleep through this, and yet we have to come with you and babysit.”

“Babysit? Is that what you think you’re doing?”

“It kind of is, man,” Yousef interjects with a cheeky grin. “Making sure you don’t get in trouble.”

“You’re-” Actually, Even doesn’t have a comeback for this, and he tries to mask his grin with a scowl. “It’s not fucking babysitting. Go home if you want.” 

“I mean, you could have at least brought Isak instead. He  _ wanted  _ to stay awake all night to look out for you,” Mutta says, and Yousef’s mouth opens in surprise.

Even rolls his eyes. “He doesn’t know what he’d be getting himself into.” 

“Neither do we, though. The walls of a skatepark are pretty vastly different to the walls of a government building.”

Even huffs. “Are we doing this or not?”

“...Yes.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Yousef says. “Isak offered to come with?”

“Do we have to talk about this now?”

Yousef narrows his eyes. “No, but we should at some point.”

“He’s an intellectual. We’re just friends.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Yousef says. “But I think you know it says a lot.”

*

It goes pretty smoothly, all things considered. A couple of hours later and they’re walking away from the finished work - which, if Even says so himself, looks pretty fucking good. Mutta is scrolling through instagram filters to find the best one.

“At least wait until we’re a bit further away,” Yousef says. “It’s like you want us to get arrested.”

“Ugh, fine,” Mutta says. “I’m hungry, can we get food?”

“At this time?” Even asks. “Don’t you want to go to bed?”

“Yeah, but I want fries,” Mutta says. “I’m pretty sure that all night cafe that Chris works at is around the corner.”

He has a little smile on his face, and Even would much rather jump on that than have Yousef bring up Isak again.

“Oh?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows a little. 

“She told us about it last week,” Mutta protests. “You just didn't pay any attention.”

They round the corner and Mutta leads them to the little place halfway down the street.

“See?” he says, pushing open the door.

Chris is behind the counter. “Hey guys!” she says, way too happy for someone awake at this time of day. “What brings you all here at this time?”

“Mutta thinks fries are more important than sleep,” grumbles Yousef, and Mutta grins.

“That’s fair,” says Chris. “What can I get you all, then?”

During the next few minutes, Mutta orders half the menu, while Yousef and Even just catch each other's eyes and shake their heads. 

It's only when Even dumps his bag down onto a chair and one of the spray paint cans pokes out from the top that Chris looks up and gives a little “oh, that's why you're awake right now?”

“Yeah!” Mutta tells her enthusiastically. 

It's a good thing that the cafe is empty because Mutta spares no details. After a couple of minutes of Mutta saying “yeah, it was right where everyone parks who works in that building, so everyone’ll see it!” Even can't really take anymore, and he sighs and takes a seat, taking out his phone to text Isak. 

Yousef sits opposite him, and Even tries to ignore him. 

**Even:** hopefully you aren't awake right now, but everything went pretty well. 

haven't been arrested yet at least

**Isak:** jokes on you i've been awake all night 

you might as well have let me come

are you safe?

**Even:** yeah :D

we're just in a cafe waiting for news and instagram followers. 

“Who are you texting?” Yousef asks, and Even puts his phone down so fast that he worries the screen might crack. “Isak?”

Even looks down. “He wanted to know how it went,” he mumbles.

“Even-”

“Yes?”

Yousef sighs. “Just - don't get hurt, okay?”

“And try not to ruin his life?”

“You really think I'm gonna be the one to tell you that?”

Even shrugs. “It’s pretty popular advice.”

“Well, it's not mine.”

“What can you tell me that I don't already know?”

“Listen,” Yousef says. “Me and Sana. We’re friends, you know? We talk a lot,” he tries to be serious but he can't seem to help the little smile that creeps onto his face. “But she's known for a while that I like her as more than a friend, and she's always been clear with me that nothing will happen.”

“Okay,” Even says. “Great. Good for you.”

“I'm just worried that Isak maybe doesn't realise - that he could be leading you on. He may be in on the revolution but he's an intellectual as long as we still have statuses. He's only going to think of you as a friend because that's all he's allowed to have.”

“I know that,” Even says, and he's not lying. He only lets himself hope while he’s asleep. “I don't expect anything from him.”

Yousef looks at him for a while, and Even feels as though he's being evaluated. 

“Okay,” Yousef says eventually. “Good.”

“Good,” Even repeats back to him. 

“And any time you need to talk about the complete torture of being in love with an intellectual, you know where I am,” Yousef says, cracking a smile. 

Even wants to tell him that it's just a crush, it's not love.

Not yet, at least.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2019! I hope this chapter is a welcome way to start the new year. :)

It starts with a traffic report.

Main Avenue is closed to both vehicles and pedestrians, detours are here and there, police are on scene to help direct traffic. Since it's Main Avenue, everyone's morning commute is a shitshow, including Isak's to class, and he’s surrounded by speculation on the bus. Five car pile-up. Some sort of active crime scene. Obviously, something the authorities want to keep secret.

Isak’s twenty minutes late when the bus finally reaches the university. For the first time in his life, he decides to skip class. It just feels like there’s something bigger happening.

He grabs a coffee and finds a quiet corner in the library, pulling out his phone instead of his textbooks. He checks Instagram first, and there it is: a lover and an intellectual holding hands on a government building.

It feels like the start of something. It feels like change. It feels really fucking cool.

And then, just as quickly, it feels like something else entirely. Isak barely knows the person who shared the image, an acquaintance from one of his biology classes, and their caption isn’t exactly favourable.

_Ok, let me rant for a second. THIS bullshit is exactly why we need the system. Lovers prioritize their agenda to the detriment of other people. Do you know how many intellectuals had their work affected by this?! Doctors had to cancel some of their appointments! Love is not that important—us intellectuals are just fine without it._

Art does not create traffic. The government closing a street just to clean some fucking graffiti off a building does. _They_ made it a big deal, and as Isak continues to scroll through Instagram, he realizes just how big of a deal it is. Even’s art is everywhere, shared by both supporters and detractors.

Isak switches from Instagram to Google, pulling up a news site to get the full story.

**_If I Profane with my Unworthiest Hand_ **

_Not since Romeo and Juliet has two people holding hands attracted this much attention._

_Main Avenue was closed during morning rush hour, leaving confused and frustrated commuters. While the government has not yet posted a reason for the closure, citizens have drawn their own conclusions based on an Instagram post._

_The post showcases graffiti on the government building of an intellectual’s hand linked with a lover’s. Tracing back to the Instagram account @endthesystem, it seems to be the start of a political protest; the account is calling on citizens who oppose the system to stand with them in advocating for change. (Update: as of 9:04AM today, the account has been deleted. Screenshots of the original post continue to be shared across social media)._

_A government employee, who does not wish to be named, called cleaners to remove the graffiti when she discovered it upon arriving for work. Though the artist’s identity is not known, she has her suspicions. “There were a group of students protesting outside our building the other day,” she said. “I’ve already passed their descriptions on to the police.”_

_Police are asking anyone with information about the incident to come forward._

Isak calls Even before he realizes what he’s doing.

It’s just that Even’s art is _everywhere_ , and the police have his description, they want information, and with each unanswered ring, Isak’s heart-rate increases, his adrenaline spikes, he’s fucking panicking—

“Hello?”

At Even’s voice, Isak calms down.

“Isak?” Even says in the silence. “You there? Everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Isak says, so quickly that it even sounds like a lie to him. Now relaxed enough to notice the glares he’s receiving, Isak remembers he’s in a fucking library. Getting up to leave, he tells Even, “Just hold on a minute.”

“Sure. I mean, you called me, but sure. I will hang out here, abandoned on the other end of the phone, waiting as you live your all-important intellectual life. I did have a dentist’s appointment, but you know, it’s just a searing toothache. I will endure for your sake.”

Isak would roll his eyes if he weren’t so relieved to hear Even’s voice.

“You’re not funny,” Isak says once he’s outside.

“Well, that’s just hurtful.”

“To distract from your searing toothache.”

“Ah, clever.”

They fall into silence because they have the kind of relationship where you need a reason to call, and Isak’s too embarrassed to admit his. Not that it matters: Even seems to know it, anyway.

“So,” Even says. “Did you see it?”

“It’s everywhere,” Isak says.

“I know, but I want to know what you saw. What you thought of it.”

“Why?”

“I’m desperate for validation, obviously. Humour me.”

Of course, Isak’s seen the art before, but it looks different on a government building than it did in Mikael’s basement. It’s evolved from an expression of love into a _fuck you_ to the government for trying to control love, and that’s kind of awesome. Not to mention, Even’s clearly grown as an artist since he first painted it. Everything looks a bit more real, and powerful, like love actually could change things.

“I think,” Isak begins, but stops himself. He wants to say _it’s incredible_ , which is true, but it’s not enough. It’s not only that the art is good, it’s that it came from Even: his fight, his honesty, his love. He’s changed Isak, and maybe that’s also why Isak sees art differently now.

“I think you’re incredible.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the phone, then, “Thank you, Isak.”

“You’ve got to stay safe,” Isak says because it still feels important, even moreso than when he called.  “Watch what you text—shit, I should delete our messages from last night.”

“Oh good, you’re as paranoid as Jonas now.”

“We might need some paranoia now that we’re actually getting attention.”

“But there are people on our side, Isak. I’ve seen a ton of support online, from people we don’t even know. As long as we’re a large group standing together, we’ll be fine.”

“There’s some hate too.”

“Who cares? Love’s stronger than that.”

Maybe in the movies at Mikael’s, but Isak knows that’s not always true in reality. “Just be careful, ok?”

“I guess, if you’re _that_ worried about me—”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll be careful. Promise.”

“Good.”

“Thanks for calling, by the way. It’s nice to talk to you.”

“Yeah, uh. I’ll do it more often.”

“Good.”

They hang up after that. Glancing at his phone screen, Isak notices he has two missed calls and a text from Eva: _CALL ME!!!_

So much for calm. Unlike Even, Eva answers immediately.

“Oh my God, _finally_ ,” she says, though Isak couldn’t have been on the phone for more than five minutes. “I need you to find a place on campus where we can have an emergency meeting. Not the library, not anywhere public. And you need to do it like, right now.”

“What? Why?”

“Jonas was arrested.”

\---

Jonas’s wrists are red.

It’s all Isak can see. They’re red because he was handcuffed, he was handcuffed because he was arrested, and he was arrested because he’s trying to improve the world for people, people like Isak.

“It’s not a big deal,” Jonas says. After he talked to Eva, Isak called Even again and asked if they could have the meeting in his dorm room. It’s only a fraction of the group: Magnus, Noora, and Sana were available because they were already on campus. Jonas and Eva came from the police station. “I was only charged with ‘conspiracy to disrupt the peace’ or some bullshit like that. Nothing about the graffiti. I told the police I wasn’t talking to them until I got a lawyer, so I’ll get a lawyer, and we’ll go from there.”

“You were arrested,” Isak says, still processing that fact himself. “That’s a big fucking deal.”

“Actually, Jonas is right,” Noora says. At Isak’s glare, she rolls her eyes and continues, “It’s obviously not ideal, but it’s not as bad it could be. Jonas is not the first student to plan a protest. Most of them get the option of proceeding through alternative measures instead of the court system, usually something like writing an essay about how great the government is and how wrong they were to question it.”

“Fuck that,” Jonas says. “I’m not adding to their propaganda.”

“No, fuck your pride,” Eva says. “You’re not going to court and risking a conviction.”

“The only thing you really need to worry about is the university,” Noora says. “Their policy for expulsion is…broad, and it’s historically been used to weed out lovers. If you write an essay, they can credit your change in attitude to their excellent teaching. If you have a court date, they’ll kick you out.”

“I don’t give a fuck about school,” Jonas says. “What’s the point of doing any of this if we’re not going to stand behind what we believe in?”

“And what, exactly, do you plan to do from prison?” Eva says. “Fuck, we shouldn’t even talk about this until you get a lawyer. Maybe they’ll give you common sense again.”

“Then why bring us all here, Eva?” Jonas says. “If we’re not going to talk about it? Or do anything? Is this just so we can decide to give up as a group? Because I didn’t get fucking arrested for that.”

Jonas’s voice cracks, and Isak understands that he’s scared too. And probably embarrassed, that everyone’s here because of him, that he’s become the victim after being the leader.

“No one is giving up,” Eva says. “And I asked people to come here so we could help you. That’s all.”

“I can connect you with a defense lawyer,” Sana says. “The organizations I’m working with know the good ones.”

“I can help out with money,” Magnus says, surprising Isak. He forgot Magnus was in the room: it’s the quietest he’s ever been. “If you need it.”

“I’m here for whatever you need,” Isak says because it’s all he knows to offer. “Always. Just ask.”

Jonas nods at them, then turns his attention back to Eva. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m just—”

Eva shakes her head. “Long day. It’s fine.”

In the silence that follows, Isak realizes the only person quieter than Magnus has been Even. Sitting beside Even on his bed because a dorm room does not offer many seating options, Isak nudges him and whispers, “You ok?”

Even shakes his head, and Isak doesn’t quite know what to do with that, so he just takes Even’s hand. It was comforting when Even did it with him, so. He’s surprised when Even squeezes his hand, offers him a small smile.

“I don’t understand what happened,” Even says, looking away from Isak to address the entire group. “It should’ve been me. I’m sorry it wasn’t.”

“Very noble of you,” Noora says. “But really, it’s better this way. You’d face charges of vandalizing a government building, distributing artwork that romanticizes loves, and there’s no option of proceeding through alternative measures with those charges. You’d go straight to court.”

“But if the police found Jonas,” Magnus says. “Aren’t they going to find Even too?”

“I’m not telling them shit, I can guarantee that,” Jonas says. “And the police didn’t find me. My parents did.”

“You don’t know that,” Eva says.

“I kind of do. Look, they don’t know who did the graffiti, right? But this has become news, news people are angry about, so they want a scapegoat. My parents know I was at their office; they know I’m a part of this. So, they gave the police my name, and the police had just enough information to charge me.”

Isak remembers the government employee mentioned in the article he read. He thinks Jonas is right, but he wishes he didn’t.

“Barely,” Sana says. “They charged you based on speculation.”

“Which is why I want to consider going to court,” Jonas says. “And before you say anything, I’ll listen to my lawyer, I promise, but wouldn’t it be better for us if I won? We could set a precedent.”

He…has a point. And even though Isak wants to side with Eva, even though he still believes getting arrested is a big fucking deal, even though he’s still scared, he hates the thought of Jonas going through this just to give in even more. In a way, Jonas’s arrest makes everything they’re doing that much more meaningful, that much more urgent: it’s proof society isn’t fair. Jonas’s wrists shouldn’t be red for promoting love.

“You’re putting a lot of faith in a legal system that’s been notoriously bad to lovers,” Noora says. “But in the end, I guess it’s up to you.”

Everyone seems to realize the implication of Noora’s words: there’s nothing else they can do to help Jonas right now. Eva invites Jonas back to her place, which he agrees to. Sana, Noora, and Magnus have classes to get to, and Isak does too, but—

“Do you have class today?” he whispers to Even.

“I have one this afternoon, but I think I’ll skip,” Even says. “Not feeling up to it.”

Isak can’t leave Even alone, not today. “Can I stay here, then? For a bit?”

“You don’t have to.”

“If I want to?”

Even smiles, then nods. “Sure. That would be nice.”

Once everyone’s left Even’s room, Isak’s attention is drawn back to their hands, still intertwined. He rubs his thumb across the back of Even’s palm, just to bring Even’s attention there too.

It works.

“It’s like your art,” Isak says, quiet.

“Yeah. I guess it is.”

“My hand looks different, though.”

“It was based off Mikael’s.”

Isak’s annoyed by that fact, and he knows exactly why. “Oh.”

“It’s interesting,” Even says. “In different periods of time, that piece would still be controversial, just for different reasons. Like, because we don’t have the same colour skin.”

“Or because you’re both men.”

“Maybe it’s not that interesting. Maybe it’s just sad.”

“No,” Isak says, causing Even to raise his eyebrows. “No, I mean, it _is_ interesting. Because if those attitudes can change, maybe we can change the system too. There’s hope.”

“There are still racists and homophobes in the world.”

“Yeah, but they’re just assholes. They’re not winning anymore.”

Even lifts his eyes off their hands, then Isak does the same, meeting each other’s eyes instead. Like they know it’s a moment where they’ll really want to see each other.

“You are still,” Even says, then laughs a little. “The most confusing person I’ve ever met.”

“Why?”

“I thought this was when you’d give up.”

“Give me more credit than that.”

“I should, but I kind of wanted to give up. Today’s the first time I’ve really felt hopeless. When you called, I hadn’t seen a lot of the hate yet, then you told me about Jonas--I don’t know, it was a lot to process at once.”

“I get that. And I mean, you’ve been fighting a lot longer than I have. You’re probably fucking exhausted.”

“Little bit. But you’re right, there’s always hope. Being with you reminds me of that.”

It feels like too nice of a thing for someone to say about Isak. “Because I was such an asshole before?”

“No, I meant what I said the other day. You weren’t perfect--still aren’t, just so we’re clear on that.”

“Noted.”

“But you weren’t a monster, either. I don’t want you to punish yourself forever for your past. You were a product of your culture, and you’ve learned. You’ve apologized. You’re trying to do better. That’s all any of us can do.”

Isak thinks he should stop considering whether things are too nice to be said about him. Maybe he could just accept them. “Yeah. Ok.”

“And that is why you give me hope,” Even says. “But it’s more than that, too. I don’t even know how to explain it, but--you have so much love, Isak. For your friends, and your mom, and even if you haven’t experienced that romantically….”

Even blushes. Isak’s never really seen him nervous.

“Knowing how much love you could give the world if you were just allowed to,” Even continues. “That’d be a such a nice world. A hopeful one. That’s worth fighting for.”

“You’re creating it,” Isak says. “With your love.”

“I don’t know.”

“Fuck that, I do. You’re so fucking compassionate. You’re give people chances. And you fight like hell for what’s right. I mean, you changed me.”

“And Jonas, and Eva--”

“Mostly you, though. Because you’re such a fucking good person that it doesn’t seem right that I can’t--”

Isak stops himself the second he realizes what he’s about to say, but when Even says, “What is it?”, gentle and sweet, Isak knows he won’t stop feeling this. He might as well voice it.

“That I can’t be in love with you.”

“Are you?” Even barely says it, his voice quiet and strained, but Isak hears everything in it: relief, fear, and maybe some love for him too.

“I don’t really know what it’s like to be in love.”

“Then what does this feel like to you?”

“Well, I trust you completely.” Even nods, as though he’s saying _me too_. “And I want to talk you about stuff, about everything. I want to spend time with you, and I want to….”

Isak brings his free hand to Even’s cheek, brushing it with his thumb. Even leans in so their foreheads are touching. “I want all of those things too,” Even whispers.

Isak’s never been wanted before. It’s powerful.

“I’m sorry if this scares you,” Even says. “And I will pretend this moment never happened if that’s what you want. I want you to be completely sure about this because it could get really fucking complicated.”

Isak thinks of his mom, sobbing in the driveway. It could happen to him. Something much worse could happen to him because this is illegal, and as he was reminded today, people get arrested for breaking even fucking stupid laws.

But not loving Even, when he knows that he can, when he knows that Even could love him too, that’s absolutely the worst option.

“Can you keep a secret?” Isak asks.

Even nods. “You have no idea how well.”

“Then I’m completely sure about this.”

Isak’s never been kissed before, but he’s not sure it matters. Nothing could compare to being kissed by Even, how it makes him feel safe, then excited, but mostly loved.

“So,” Even says when he pulls away. “Sorry if that made you lose all your knowledge because now you’re completely obsessed with me. I know kisses are powerful things.”

Isak laughs. “Don’t get cocky. You’re fine.”

“Mm, I’ll have to kiss you again then. In fact, I’ll have to kiss you until I erase all your intellect because, as we know, that’s been my goal this entire time.”

“Diabolical.”

“I know, I’m very cunning.”

“It’s going to take a while, though. I’m really fucking smart.”

“I have time.”

“Then do your worst.”

Isak does not go home that night.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOD EVENING apparently its been ten days since bri's chapter so what we can take from that is that time is FAKE  
> anyway enjoy!

It starts with him waking up next to isak.

Actually, it started a while ago. He could tell himself that it wasn’t  _ at first sight _ , and he’d mostly be right, but something did start when he first saw Isak. He just didn’t know what it was back then. 

Still isn’t sure that he does now, after weeks of trying to convince himself not to get involved and days of trying to convince himself it's just a passing thing. But when he wakes up next to Isak, it's the start of things being just a little clearer. 

If he lost this, he’d grieve more than if he lost anything else in the world. He doesn’t remember the exact feeling, because it’s different every time, for every person he feels it for.

But it is love. That much he knows.

And it’s Isak - an intellectual, which means it’s the easiest thing in the world to lose. One wrong step, and -

Even could ruin Isak’s life. And he wants to say he doesn’t believe it, that he knows that he and Isak both made this decision, and it’s neither of them making the decision over the other, but maybe Isak doesn’t realise what’s going on, what he’s risking here, how easily they could lose this.

But, as he reminds himself, he does know. They both know. They’re taking the risk together.

Isak is still asleep, for now. Lying on his stomach, his face turned towards Even, mouth slightly open, breathing deeply. He’s fucking beautiful. 

Yeah. It's definitely love. 

Even doesn't want to wake him - he's so peaceful like this, he deserves the rest - but they both have class to get to at some point. As much as Even would like to take the time to learn Isak more, just to talk to him, just to spend time with him - they can't skip another day.

But it's so difficult to move. He's so comfy and warm under the covers, and so happy just to look at Isak. 

Slowly, he lifts his hand to Isaks face, and strokes a gentle finger down the side. 

“Hey, Isak?” he says it quietly, but it's enough to wake him. His face scrunches up and his eyes shut tight. 

“Nope,” he says simply, and then wriggles forward and buries his face in Even’s chest. “I don't wanna get up.”

Even laughs quietly. “I knew you wouldn't be a morning person.”

“What?” Isak asks, the indignance in his voice muffled by the fact that he's speaking into Evens t-shirt, but it's still definitely there. “How?”

“Just a hunch,” he says. “But come on, we have class to get to.”

“Ugh,” Isak says, rolling back and smiling deviously. “I can't go to class. I don't have any intelligence left.”

“Oh, that's true,” Even says. “I can try and give you some back?”

He waits for Isak’s nod before he leans over him and presses his lips to Isak’s. 

“There. Did it work?”

Isak hums. “Maybe. Try again.”

He could stay like this forever. Isak is pretty persuasive, putting his arms around Even to keep him in place. 

Eventually Isak pulls away, barely a centimetre, so that he can speak. 

“Kissing is so fucking nice. I cant believe the government was trying to keep this from me.”

“It is, isn't it?” Even agrees. “Maybe you're right, we shouldn't go to class.”

“Yeah,” Isak murmurs. “Let's just kiss.”

*

They get up eventually, and they're standing beside the door before Even knows it. Even’s classes don't start for another hour, but he's somehow persuaded Isak (and himself, more importantly) that Isak shouldn't skip his first class. 

“Okay,” Isak says. “I just have to not touch you all day. I can do that.”

“You've managed it up until now,” Even says, half amused, half thinking exactly what Isak is:  _ how are they going to manage that? _

Isak leans in for one last kiss, and Even brushes his fingers through Isak’s hair.

“I’ll see you later,” Isak says. “I’ll, uh, call you?”

Even nods. “See you later,” he agrees. “We have love class today, right? That should be fun.”

“Fuck,” Isak groans. “Can we just go back to bed?”

*

Vilde knows about Jonas. And she has no problem spreading it around, before love class, when Isak and Even are trying not to stand less than 2 metres apart. (Even hadn't realised that he'd had the urge just to reach out and touch Isak for a while, maybe weeks, but it makes sense when he stands away from him, and feels the same way as usual. It's as though he's being pulled towards him, but this time he knows he  _ could  _ act on it - Isak would let him. No one else would, but they don't matter - except that they do.)

“ _ Thankfully _ ,” Vilde says. “When he's convicted, he'll be kicked out.”

Even sees Isak’s barely masked scowl from his left, and knows that he's seconds away from uttering the simple correction that would wipe that look off her face - and ruin Isak’s reputation. 

So Even says it for him. There's nothing to ruin there. 

“I think the word you're looking for is  _ if _ ,” he says. “ _ If _ they convict him. There's no hard evidence against him.”

Isak shoots him a grateful smile, and Vilde breathes in, and puts on that fake smile that Even knows so well, and turns towards him, drawing herself up as if she's trying to reach his height. It's an odd sort of comfort to know that she never will. 

“And how can you be so sure of that?”

He raises an eyebrow as if the answer is obvious to cover up the realisation that he might have let slip too much about what he knows. 

“Just obvious, isn't it?” he says, thanking all of his practice at lying for getting him this far. “The police are desperate. They needed someone to blame, who better than a lover who wants an education?”

It's hard not to grin at Isak's expression now, at the way he looks down at his feet and smiles to himself. but somehow Even manages to keep a straight face as Vilde huffs at him. 

“Wanting an education isn't the point,” she snaps. “The point is that you're taking important resources away from those who can actually do good with them. The police are doing the right thing, suspecting you lovers. You're clearly the types who just want to watch the world fall into chaos.”

Even takes a breath. “You got me. I was actually planning on blowing up the government, will you help? I need an intellectual to teach me how to do it.”

It's worth it for the shock on Vildes face, and the quiet laughter from Isak, barely concealed by the hand in front of his face.

*

“All jokes aside,” Isak tells him later on the phone. “She is going to make sure you get put on some government watch list. So if your phone wasn't tapped before, it is now.”

Even laughs. “Well, shit. Should have thought of that, shouldn't I?”

“Yeah, you should have. I can’t say anything I want to right now.”

Even hums. “Maybe you should come over, then.”

“You're home?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I'll be there in ten.”

“Can't wait.”

*

He's there in eight, and it seems he can hardly wait for the door to shut behind him before he surges forward and kisses Even. 

“God,” Even murmurs against his lips with a smile. “You really fucking like kissing, don't you?”

“I really fucking like you,” Isak says, with no hint of the shame that Even has come to expect when Isak talks about stuff like this - though that was before yesterday’s revelation. “And I've been wanting to kiss you all day but someone decided it was fucking illegal.”

“Damn. Someone should do something about that.”

“Yeah. I'm protesting right now,” Isak says, and kisses him again. “Direct action.”

*

“I can't spend the night here again,” Isak says with a frown later. “I don’t wanna worry my mum too much.”

Even nods in understanding, then grins. “Yeah, she might think you’re off doing something illegal.”

“Fuck off,” Isak says, clearly fighting a grin. “She'd - I think she'd like you.”

“Yeah?” 

Isak nods. “She told me she wants me to be happy, and - well, you’re - you make me happy, so…” he tails off, looking away for a moment. “Yeah, she'd like you.” Even smiles, but Isak continues. “But then, she also said she wants me to be safe, so... I don't know which is more important to her.”

“Mm, good point.”

“What - what would your mum say? About me?”

Even looks down. “I - don't really know.”

“You still haven't talked to her?”

“I tried,” Even says. “I texted her and asked her to bring me a shirt I left at home but - she did and I chickened out and asked her to leave it outside my door.”

Isak takes his hand. “You can try again?” 

Even just hums, and hides his face in Isak’s shoulder. “I could.”

“Do you need me to hold your hand through it?” Isak smiles. “Both hands?” He offers his other hand.

“Yeah,” Even says, taking it and holding on tight.

They stay like that for a while, Even’s face still in Isak’s shoulder, and both their hands intertwined. Even shifts a little so that he can press his lips to Isak’s neck.

“How long can you stay?” He asks, turning his head a little so that he can speak without lifting his head. 

Isak sighs. “Not long. A few more minutes, maybe. ”

“Okay,” Even says, and then the question comes out without him meaning it to. “Do you - do you feel like you have to look after her?”

“Huh?”

“That came out wrong, I - I'm sorry. I just mean - do you mind it? Because the cutting off contact thing, it usually goes both ways. Most intellectuals would move out.”

Isak gives him a sly smile. “Do I seem like most intellectuals to you?”

Even laughs quietly. “No  Not anymore.”

Isak presses his lips to the top of Even’s head. “I used to mind. I used to hate that it had become like my job, to keep her safe and stop her getting paranoid about stuff but… She's important, you know? I care about her enough that I want to make sure she's okay.”

Even feels his insides settle at Isak’s words. “Good. She's lucky to have you.”

“I'm lucky to have her,” Isak says. “Plenty of other people don't.”

Even just hums, and neither of them speak for a while, until Isak looks at his watch. 

“There's a bus in fifteen minutes,” he says. “Shall we make the most of the last ten minutes and make out?”

“Or I could drive you home and we could make out for longer?”

“Mm, but I don't know how I would stop myself from making out with you in your car, and someone would definitely see.”

Even frowns, and thinks for a moment “Direct action?” he suggests, eyebrows raised. 

Isak laughs, and shakes his head. 

“Ten minutes. You're wasting time.”

*

**Mutta:** Evennnnnnn

I have the most epic idea everrrrr

Will you be at Mikaels tomorrow?

**Even:** I can be, I guess. Why?

**Mutta:** You'll see when you get there!!!!!!!!!

No pressure tho lol

**Even:** ok?

see you tomorrow :)

*

Sometimes Even wonders if there's a person alive that Mutta can't befriend. 

This time, it’s Mahdi, who always seems to hang out on the fringes of their meetings, rarely speaking up unless spoken to. But now he’s sitting at the table in Mikael’s basement, deep in conversation with Mutta when Even walks in with Isak.

“Hey,” Even greets them, trying not to let the confusion in his voice become too obvious, although he’s fairly sure he fails at that.

“Even! Isak! Hey!” Mutta exclaims loudly, while Mahdi settles for a simple nod and a quiet “hi.”

“So what’s this brilliant idea you had?” he asks, taking a seat at the table across from them. Isak follows suit, taking the chair next to him, and taking Even’s hand once they're out of view, hidden by the table. In a place like this, no one would mind who holds hands with who, but Mutta isn't the best at keeping secrets. 

“Oh! It's a good one, trust,” says Mutta, but doesn’t elaborate, instead looks at Mahdi.

“Okay, but what is it?” Even says, rolling his eyes.

“We thought that since the art is still kind of big news, we could do a kind of anonymous interview with you,” Mahdi says, while Mutta nods along excitedly. 

Isak’s grip on his hand tightens. 

“That doesn't seem very safe,” he says, and Mahdi tilts his head in acknowledgement.

“Completely your decision,” Mahdi says to Even. “We’ll change names, locations, everything, and Mutta can make it untraceable when we upload it. But while the buzz is still going, the quicker we can add to the noise the better. It'll get our cause more attention.”

“Okay,“ Even says. “Yeah, sounds good.” He gives Isak a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine.”

“But after what happened to Jonas-”

“We can't give up,” Even says.

“But we  _ can _ be careful.”

Even squeezes his hand with a gentle smile. “It'll be fine. I'll do it,” he says, turning back to Mahdi. 

“Sweet,” replies Mahdi, while Mutta has a slightly more enthusiastic response, pumping his fists into the air with a “yes!” 

“Okay,” Mahdi continues, taking a notebook out. “My sister’s a journalist, so she taught me some stuff before I decided to be a lover.”

“Are you the first lover in your family?” Even asks, wondering if he'll ever be able to stop finding families torn apart by the system. 

“I'm supposed to be interviewing you,” jokes Mahdi. “But no. My sister is the first intellectual. She doesn't speak to us.”

“Shit,” Even says. “That's rough.”

Mahdi shrugs. “Anyway. As you probably guessed that has to be the first question. What's your status?”

Even sighs. “People are going to use this to make a point that it's only lovers who complain about the system, but, yeah. I'm a lover.”

Mahdi nods. “Okay - I'm gonna kind of play devil’s advocate here, so don't get mad, but - do you think it's true? That only lovers want to “end the system”?”

Even glances at Isak and grins. “Nope,” he says. “I mean - everyone puts it down to “lovers just want to watch the world fall into chaos” but some of the most active people against the system are intellectuals. They just can't draw for shit.”

“Fuck you,” Isak says. “You've never seen me draw. I could be the next - fucking - Van Gogh or whatever.”

“I'm sure you are.” Even forgets himself for a minute, smiling at Isak, until Mahdi clears his throat from across the table. 

“Okay, so - what does your art mean for you? Is it self explanatory or is there something more to it?”

“I think it's self explanatory,” he pauses, considering his next words with a a quick glance at Isak. “I first drew it a few years ago, and - well, the meaning’s flipped for me since then, about which hand is mine. But I think it can mean whatever people want it to be, you know, whether it's a romantic relationship or a friendship, or even if it's on a different level, like two parts of yourself existing at the same time, because I think a lot of us have that, that we aren't one or the other, we're a mix of both. Because contrary to popular belief, you can fall in love and still be smart.”

He lets himself be proud that everyone around the table looks kind of impressed.

“So, then, how did you choose which was more important to you?”

“I mean, it was a long process,” Even says. “In the end I kind of convinced myself that intellectuals were selfish, that if they didn't feel love, they must not care about anything at all, besides themselves. I didn't want to be that person,” he takes a breath, preparing himself for his next words. “And - despite my intellectual level grades in school, every test I did told me to be a lover, because I - because I'm bipolar.”

He doesn't dare to look at Isak now. Mutta instead catches his eye across the table and gives him an encouraging smile. “You sure you're okay with us publicising that?” he asks gently, and Even nods. 

“Gotta show people how fucked up the system really is somehow,” Even half laughs, and feels Isaks hand squeeze his a little tighter, although he's still not ready to turn to him.

Mahdi asks him a few more questions, but he answers the rest on autopilot, looking deliberately away from Isak as he does. 

The last question, though, makes Even grin. 

“Will you be making any more art?”

“I don't think I'll ever stop making art. But if you're talking about street art - it's yet to be decided. But if it seems like people need it then - yeah, absolutely.”

Mahdi and Mutta grin - maybe Isak does too. He still can't look, even though he hasn't let go of his hand yet.

“Awesome,” says Mutta. “Okay, I started a new instagram account. It's called @endthesystem1.”

“Creative.”

“It's  _ recognisable, _ Even. Anyway, we also have a blog. This'll be up on there once we're done writing it. So - keep an eye out!”

Mahdi and Mutta say their goodbyes, and leave Even and Isak alone. 

Even looks at the table, then at their hands, still intertwined. 

“Hey,” Isak says gently. “Weren't we gonna watch a movie? This chair is vastly uncomfortable.”

Even nods, and lets Isak guide him into the other room, onto a sofa, hand still held tight, pulling Even’s head down onto his shoulder.

“I feel like you're worried that I'm gonna change my mind about us,” Isak says.

“I'm worried that you're upset that I didn't tell you,” Even corrects. “But I guess I wonder if it could lead to you changing your mind.”

“You should stop worrying,” Isak says, and Even can hear the patient smile in his voice. “I'm not changing my mind about you.”

“But it's - I - it's, like, a big thing,” Even sighs in frustration that he's not better at explaining himself. 

He feels Isak shrug. “I have big feelings for you, though.”

It's impossible not to smile at that. Isak brushes his fingers through Even’s hair, and Even just about melts.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “You're - you're-” he huffs, unable to find the words. 

“Really cool?” Isak teases. “Incredibly attractive?”

“Yeah,” Even says, smiling now, shifting so that he's level with Isak. “Can I kiss you? Here? I mean, no one would say anything.”

Isak smiles. “You can kiss me anywhere.”

“Okay,” Even says, moving in so that he's muttering the words against Isak’s smiling lips. “Yeah. Direct action.”

“Direct action,” Isak agrees, and closes the distance between them.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like my reality TV AU roots show in this one. In other words, drama ahead. Enjoy!

In another universe, this would be a normal Saturday afternoon for a university student.

Isak’s at Eva’s apartment with their friends. Everyone either has a mug of coffee or can of beer, and bowls of pretzels and chips are being passed around. There’s shitty indie music scoring their conversation. And Isak’s thinking about how fucking hot his boyfriend looks sitting across from him, a kind of lazy-cute with messy hair and one of Isak’s hoodies keeping him warm.

Even smiles at him in a way that sends a rush of adrenaline through Isak, a reminder of the danger of being together in public but also the thrill of keeping this kind of secret.

Maybe love has made him stupid. Isak does not fucking care anymore.

“Alright,” Jonas says, bringing Isak back to this universe. They are friends hanging out, but they’re also revolutionaries trying to overthrow a government system, and that gives the afternoon a different atmosphere. “We ready to get started?”

It’s their first meeting with everyone in attendance since Jonas’s arrest. With the library being too public and Even’s dorm too small, they chose Eva’s apartment as their new headquarters, though her living room is still pretty cramped. Most people, including Isak, are sitting on the floor; he made a point not to sit next to Even because taking his hand is a reflex now. Holding his hand, however, may have been more subtle than the way Isak’s staring at Even now because, well, how he can he _not?_

“Look away,” Even mouths, his words falling into a teasing grin. Isak blushes, but does not comply.

“Everyone good? Sufficiently buzzed and caffeinated?” Eva asks. When Isak told his mom he was going to Eva’s, the truth if missing some details, she said: _good, she’s always been a good friend to you._ And Isak wondered how much else of his life she’s always understood in a way he’s just beginning too. At everyone’s murmurs of agreement, Eva continues, “Ok, then Jonas, can we get an update on you? What’s going on with your case?”

There’s a plea in her question, like it’s not the first time she’s asked. Isak realizes he has no fucking clue what the state of Jonas and Eva’s relationship is now, and if he we were a better friend, he would’ve asked by now.

“Well, I got a lawyer,” Jonas says, nodding towards Sana. “And she said the police don’t have anything against me but hearsay. She can easily get my case withdrawn if I go to court, as long as I keep my head down.”

“That’s fucking perfect,” Magnus says, enthusiastic in a way Isak knows Jonas well enough not to be.

“But?” Isak prompts.

“But,” Jonas says. “She said no one will give a shit. The public sees that someone’s been arrested, and as far as they’re concerned, that person’s guilty. They rarely follow-up to see if they’re actually convicted. So, it’s not going to make any kind of statement. The time it takes to go through court will just make it more likely that I get expelled.”

“So if there’s no benefit to that,” Noora says. “You’ll proceed through alternative measures?”

Jonas nods. “My lawyer’s trying to negotiate some mix of an essay and community service. If it all works out, the charge will be wiped from my record.”

“I know you wanted to be a hero,” Eva says. “But I’m fucking glad. Whatever your lawyer says, you don’t know what would’ve happened in court.”

“Yeah, but it’s frustrating,” Jonas says. “If getting arrested for no fucking reason won’t make people care, what’s going to?”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Mahdi says. “Have you checked the Instagram lately?”

“What number are we on now?” Sana asks Mutta. “Fourteen?”

“ _Thirteen_ ,” he corrects. “But every time they shut us down, people get angrier, and we get more support. And you should read the comments on the interview Even did: everyone’s asking what they can do to change things. It’s fucking epic.”

Isak’s read the comments. Mutta’s telling the truth, but it’s missing some key fucking details. Yes, there is a lot of support, but _a lot_ isn’t the majority. The majority are comments like _lol this just proves crazy people shouldn’t be intellectuals_ and _does anyone else secretly love it when lovers publish stuff like this? congratulations on shining a spotlight on your own stupidity._

It’s scary, to know that people hate Even without knowing him. It’s worse when Isak remembers that he used to have the same attitude.

“If we have supporters looking to take action,” Even says. “Maybe it’s time we protest for real. Block the streets, chant, disrupt the fuck out of the peace.”

“Direct action,” Isak says, then smirks at Even. Even winks back at him.

“Yeah, fuck it, you’re right,” Jonas says. “We need to capitalize on this momentum while we have it. We could even start planning today—”

“I’m sorry,” Eva interrupts. “But do I need to remind you that you were literally just arrested for planning a protest?”

“Who cares?” Jonas says. “I’m getting off. If there’s hundreds of us marching, they can’t arrest all of us.”

“No, they absolutely can,” Sana says. “Or, they’ll choose a scapegoat like you because you’ve been charged before.”

“But they’re going to wipe my record.”

“Publicly, but you don’t think they keep case files? And they, you know, have memories.”

“So what, then? We do nothing because everything’s a risk?”

“No, we just need to be smarter. First, we need to establish what we’re actually fighting for. Ending the system might be the ultimate goal, but that won’t happen overnight. We should focus on smaller changes that’ll shift society to a place where the system becomes outdated. Shorter sentences for people convicted of love-related crimes. Better treatment of lovers at university. Allowing people to change their status. We focus on one goal at a time, and we consult with lawyers to cover our ass along the way.”

“That makes sense to me,” Noora says.

“Me too,” Yousef adds.

“Look, I know you don’t want to march,” Jonas says. “And that’s fine, you can keep working with organizations in conjunction with what we’re doing—”

“No, you’re misunderstanding,” Sana says. “I’ll march as long as I know what we’re marching for and do it responsibly. Those organizations are great, but you were right, their progress is too slow. If we make a scene about the goals they’re trying to achieve, we can get them more funding and opportunities.”

“What about getting a good residency?” Isak asks.

“It’s a concern of mine,” Sana says. “But I’ve decided some things are more important.”

Isak does not miss the way she looks towards Yousef. He’s not the only one with a secret here.

“I mean,” she continues. “My brother, Elias, he’s completely lost himself to his intellectual status. He barely talks to his friends. He treats his own creativity like it’s a weakness. He’s just not as kind as he used to be. I want better for him, but I also don’t want to become him. We need urgent change, I’m with you there, but we need to be realistic about what changes we can accomplish.”

“But if we end the system, we’ll achieve all those smaller goals at once,” Jonas says. “If we really invest in the protest—”

“What do you think’s going to happen, Jonas?” Eva asks. “The government’s not going to say ok, you’re right, the system’s gone and we’ll have new policies in place tomorrow. You know it doesn’t work that way.”

“I just don’t think we should settle for anything less than that, not when we have this kind of momentum.”

Sana holds her hands up in surrender. “I’ve said my piece. Clearly you’re going to do what you want to do, so. Go ahead and plan, but don’t ask me for bail money.”

“Noted,” Jonas says. “For everyone who’s on board, we can get this together in what, a couple weeks? We figure out a route, get the message out online—”

“I really, really don’t think you should do this.”

Everyone turns towards Chris, who’s been quiet until now. “Ok?” Jonas says. “Care to elaborate?”

Instead of answering Jonas, she directs her response at Even. “You know Vilde? In your love class?”

“Yes,” he says, slowly. “Do you?”

“We’ve been friends since junior high.”

“How can you stand being friends with her?” Isak asks. “She’s the fucking worst.”

“No, she’s not—” Chris says, then corrects herself. “She can be, but you have to understand how she’s grown up. Her parents are both lovers, but her mom’s a total mess, and I don’t even know where her dad is. They had no money, and she basically worked her ass off in high school to get scholarships just to go to university. She sees being an intellectual as a way out and a lover as a path to destruction.”

Isak’s gut response is _so what, a tragic backstory doesn’t make you a good person,_ but. It’s not like he doesn’t know where Vilde’s coming from. Maybe she can learn too.

“Ok, but what about her?” Even asks.

“You quoted her in your interview,” Chris says.

Isak’s practically memorized the interview from rereading it, and his stomach sinks when he realizes Chris is right. _Lovers just want to watch the world fall into chaos_.

“Shit,” Isak says. “Did she realize it was Even?”

“She suspected that, but I talked her out of it,” Chris says. “I said that Even probably told his friends the story, and it was probably one of them, but there’s no way to know who. And the police have definitely read the interview and already suspect you guys, so it’s not like she’d be giving them new information.”

“So, wait,” Mikael says. “You told her the police suspect us? Does she know who ‘us’ is? Does she know _you’re_ a part of us? And what’s the problem if she’s not going to the police?”

Chris glances at Mutta, then says, “You’re going to hate me.”

Mutta doesn’t say anything to that, but Eva asks, “Chris, what’s going on?”

“You know the government has an internship program for intellectuals who can’t afford university? You do two years for the price of tuition; it’s their bullshit way of minimizing the class divide.”

“Why is that bullshit?” Isak asks.

“Because they don’t treat you like an actual employee. They use you as a spy.”

When Isak understands what Chris is saying, his first instinct is to look at Jonas. He looks worse than he did after he was arrested.

“A spy,” Mutta repeats. “Wait, you’re an _intellectual_?"

“Might want to get your priorities straight,” Mikael mumbles.

Chris nods. “Vilde and I bonded because we grew up in similar shitty circumstances. I took the internship because I was desperate, and—I didn’t know they just wanted information out of me. They set me up at the café, knowing a lot of drunk university students go there, and knowing those are the people most likely to be revolutionaries. And I was personable, so—people told me things. Eva told me about you guys.”

“Fucking hell, Eva,” Jonas says. “Were you drunk when you talked to her?”

“Hey, if you’re getting mad at _me_ for this?” Eva says. “We are never fucking talking again, understood? We were all trying to recruit people. We all trusted people. I just made a mistake.” Eva frowns, though Isak knows it’s not for her mistake—though he agrees with her that it’s not fair to call it one. It’s because she lost a friend.

“I’m sorry,” Chris says. “Truly. And there’s nothing I can say that’ll excuse it. I’ve never totally believed in the system, I wanted to be on your side, I just—couldn’t be.”

“But what have you actually told them?” Even asks. “You didn’t give them my name, right? So it can’t be that bad.”

“I didn’t give them your name for the graffiti,” Chris says. “But I did give them everyone’s name after the first meeting. I told Vilde too, just as stupid gossip. By the time the graffiti happened, I was straight up lying to my supervisors because I care about you guys. I told them I didn’t know who did it, but that Jonas was the leader, because I knew he’d get a lesser charge than Even would.”

“You got me arrested,” Jonas says. “I blamed my fucking _parents_ for that.”

“I mean, someone was asking me for the information,” Chris says. “And I’m sorry because I know that’s shitty to hear, and I know I’m still at fault here, but I’m trying to protect you now. If you protest, even among hundreds of people, they’ll go after everyone who was at that first meeting because those are the names they have. Even people like Sana and Mikael who didn’t stand outside their office. They’re waiting for you to do something, and they’re already building their case for how to put you in jail for trying.”

“I don’t think you understand how fucked I am because of this,” Mikael says.

“I’m sorry,” Chris says. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“You really just need to fucking leave,” Jonas says.

For all of Isak’s shitty circumstances, he’s never had to worry about money. He knew he could always go to university, that being an intellectual was always a safe bet for him. But if he were in a position where he needed that internship, and he still believed in the system—of course he’d give information to the government about those trying to dismantle it. He would’ve seen it as the right thing to do, fucked up as that is.

And that’s why he follows Chris to the door, who frowns at him before she leaves. “You don’t have to say anything, Isak. Trust me, I get what I did, and I will always be sorry for it.”

Isak shakes his head. “We’ve all fucked up.”

“Not like this.”

“No, but only because some of us have gotten lucky.”

Chris nods, then leave. When Isak turns around to go back to the living room, he realizes he’s not the only who he followed Chris out.

“You’re a really good person,” Even says.

“Trying to be.”

But focusing on Even again, Isak’s fear comes back. Of course the government has Even’s name, they probably had it the moment he spoke up in love class, but it’s worse than Isak imagined. They know he’s a part of something. Vilde thinks he did the graffiti, and after Chris’s revelation, he’s not convinced she talked Vilde out of that. And all that hate on his interview—

People want his blood, and Isak will not let them have it.

“Let’s go into Eva’s bedroom,” Isak whispers. Even nods and follows him there, the others too preoccupied in processing what the fuck just happened to notice them slip away.

Once they’re alone, Isak pulls Even into himself as tight as he can, like he’s trying to secure him in place. “Hey,” Even whispers, pulling away just enough to look Isak in the eye. “We’re going to be ok.”

“I just don’t want to lose you now.”

“I’m right here, Isak. Where would I go?”

Isak rolls his eyes. “ _Prison_.”

“Right. That. Hey, for all we know you’ll get arrested too. That could be romantic. One cell, one bed, what ever will we do?”

“Stop making jokes.”

“Sorry. Just trying to calm you down.”

“Why aren’t you more scared?”

“Isak,” Even says. “My entire life, people have tried to imprison me. If I was going to be an intellectual, I had to hide the way I love people. When I became a lover, I had to ignore how badly I want to learn about everything. All the art I ever wanted to make was illegal. My bipolar disorder meant I couldn’t even feel what I was feeling without someone psychoanalyzing me. Being with you is the first time I’ve ever felt like I could relax and be myself. You’ve freed me. It’s not that I’m not scared, of course I am, but I know my future is going to be better with you than it ever was without you.”

Isak does not believe he’s eloquent enough to give that the response it deserves, but as he’s learned from Even, sometimes you can communicate more through touch than words. He brings his hand to Even’s cheek, brushing it in a way reminiscent of their first kiss, then leans in.

Isak does not hear the door open, but he hears the slam when it closes.

“Are you fucking kidding right now?”

Isak pulls away from Even to find Jonas the angriest he’s ever seen him. It’s not the reaction Isak was expecting from him when he finally came clean about Even.

“I was going to tell you—” Isak starts, but Jonas cuts him off.

“You just found out we have a fucking mole and you guys are making out in here? Am I the only fucking one taking this seriously at all?”

“You’re right, bad timing,” Isak says. “But this is a good thing, we love—"

“I don’t give a shit!”

“I’m going to, uh, leave you guys alone,” Even says, making his way out of the room. Once he’s gone, Jonas starts again.

“I should’ve known. You’ve only changed your opinion on the system because you want to fuck around with Even, have the high school experience you missed out on. Once it ends, you’ll probably feed information to the government. Fuck, you’ve always been selfish—"

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Isak says. “I changed my opinion on the system because it fucking sucks. Because you taught me that, and so did Eva, and yeah, so did Even. We’re not fucking around, we’re in love, and maybe you’ll remember this is exactly what people accused you and Eva doing.”

“What you accused of us doing.”

“Yeah. And I was wrong.”

“Maybe you weren’t. Maybe we were in over our heads.”

Calming down, Jonas sits on the edge of Eva’s bed, and Isak joins him. “I’m sorry,” Jonas says. “And I know I owe Eva an apology too. Shit, she won’t even look at me.”

“You kind of deserve it.”

“I know.”

“But she’s pretty forgiving. I mean, I would know.”

Jonas smiles at that. “I’m just so fucking tired of everything falling back on me. I organize the protests, but I do it wrong, and nothing has changed. If anything, things have gotten worse. I let a mole into our group. I got arrested. I’m just exhausted trying to carry all this. The failures are really fucking heavy.”

“But you also own the success,” Isak says. “You changed my mind. We actually are getting a lot of support online. And I know Chris fucked us over, but she did tell us the truth now; she did that because you’ve built something people believe in.”

“I guess.”

“And you don’t have to carry anything on your own, fuck. That’s why we’re here. You’re just too stubborn to let someone like Sana help you.”

“She did have good ideas.”

“Especially given what Chris just told us? We should listen to her and talk to lawyers before we do anything else.”

“If people will even want to do something now.”

“I’m in. I can guarantee Even is too. I don’t know who else will be, but we’ve got to see this through.”

“How are you motivating me now?”

“I told you. You’re not in this alone.”

Jonas nods. “I am happy for you and Even, by the way. You deserve it.”

“Thanks.”

“But you guys need to be way more careful because you’ll definitely get charged for that. And we really don’t know who we can trust.”

“I know. We’ll do better.” Isak pauses, then asks, “What is going on with you and Eva, anyway?”

“You mean when she doesn’t hate me?” Jonas asks.

“She doesn’t,” Isak says. “Your arrest really freaked her out.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jonas says with a laugh. “I don’t know. I’m always going to love her, but I don’t think we’re meant to be. And it did make me wonder if everyone was right about us, if we chose our status based off high school hormones.”

“It’s not hormones, though. It’s love.”

“Yeah. And I don’t regret love. I just want a world where everyone can experience it.”

“So then,” Isak says. “What’s our next step?”

“Talk to Sana?”

“I think that’s wise.”

“Then we plan a revolution.”

“Again?”

Jonas smiles. “Again.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no excuse for this and how late it is but huge shoutout to bri for still wanting anything to do with me anyway enjoy

If Even had directed this, like he often thinks he should be able to do, Jonas wouldn’t have found out like that. 

Even would have set it up better, to start with. Tried not to distract from the main plot point, the one where he calmed Isak down with a fucking incredible speech, if he does say so himself. There would have been a longer gap, a time, a place to relax in the moment, breathe deeper and easier. 

_ Then _ Jonas would come in. He wouldn't be so furious, he'd be - upset, yeah. But calm. He'd catch their attention with a sharp breath in, and his anger would be cold.  _ What the fuck are you doing? _

Isak and Even could explain themselves together, just by how they look at each other, and if Jonas was calm he'd be able to see what they have, and understand that it's not bad. 

Instead, Even doesn't get to direct it, and he's left Isak alone in there, to deal with Jonas by himself. 

He's a shitty fucking boyfriend. He had thought - Isak knows Jonas. He knows what to say and how to explain and how to make him feel better. But now he wonders - what if Isak wanted him there? 

It’s not difficult to distract himself from whatever Jonas and Isak might be saying, though.  When he goes back into the main room, Mikael is on the phone to his mum, face in his hands, with Mutta’s arm tight around his shoulders. It’s Even’s job to go and provide some comfort - or at least try.

“Yeah, alright… Okay, thanks, mum. Love you.”

Mikael puts the phone down quick enough that Even doesn’t have to dwell on the end of the sentence, on the fact that he misses being able to say that to his mum.

“Alright?” Mutta asks, and Mikael sighs. 

“I don’t know. It’s a fucking mess.”

Even puts a comforting hand on Mikael’s arm, and it feels fucking useless. 

“I think we'll have to - close down for a while. Move our stuff to somewhere under a different name, at least if this gets any further.”

“But will it?” 

Even didn't expect that response from Mutta, of all people - but then, maybe he should have. Mutta is the one that befriends everyone, that trusts so easily and freely, and this is the first time (in Even’s memory) that it’s really blown up in his face.  

“I mean,” Mutta continues. “Whatever way we play it, it's all gonna trace back to us. We can't - like, we can't get any further without one or all of us getting fucked over. They have our names.”

Mikael doesn’t respond with more than a shrug, which is odd, again, to see Mikael start to lose hope. 

For all that Even’s hope feels rooted in Isak at the moment, he wouldn’t have had any hope in the first place if it wasn’t for Mikael. He doesn’t know how to fix it - he can’t exactly tell them not to worry, or dispute Mutta’s statement, because he isn’t wrong. But they can’t let this stop them.

“We can’t give up,” Even says weakly, looking around the room at the scattered remains of the group. The energy has shifted so much from the start of the meeting, what was smiles and laughter has turned to solemn faces and some sort of dark cloud over all of them. “We’re all here for a reason - because the system’s fucked us over. We risk being in trouble for continuing to fight, but we also risk continuing to be fucked over if we don’t.”

“He’s right,” Jonas walks into the room, swiftly followed by Isak, who shoots a reassuring smile before sitting across the room.

And yes, Even knows that Jonas just caught them together, and they have to be careful, but it still feels unfair.

“You guys cool with continuing this meeting? Anyone who doesn’t want to stay is welcome to go, but whatever happens going forward is going to affect all of us, since we were all there at the first meeting.”

“In which case if even one of us doesn’t want to continue, none of us should,” Sana interrupts, her voice tight. “It’s a big decision to make when, for all we know, we’ll get nothing out of it.”

“Yeah,” Jonas agrees with her, looking down as if he’s embarrassed about it. “Yeah, like you said, we need an achievable goal.”

Sana raises an impressed eyebrow. “You’re listening to me?”

“Look,” Jonas sighs. “I’m willing to admit I’ve been too focussed on the end goal. I didn’t want to accept that it’s going to take a while. But I want to do something, and I think you guys do too.”

There’s nods from around the room. Even smiles softly at Isak, who smiles back.

“Now isn’t a good time to decide anything,” Noora says. “We all need time to think about this. No one should feel pressured into saying yes to a protest where we will undoubtedly be the ones to get arrested.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jonas nods. “So we - what, have another meeting next week? See how we all feel then?”

There’s more agreement from everyone.

“And, Sana, maybe I could talk to you in the meantime? You have some pretty good ideas that I haven’t been listening to.”

Sana actually smiles.

They call it a night there, and everyone starts to leave slowly. Even stays where he is for a moment, with Mutta and Mikael, because Mikael is on the phone again with his mum, and Even doesn’t want to leave without knowing what’s happening.

Isak comes over to sit beside Even. 

“Everything alright?” he asks quietly, and Even shrugs, and notices the careful distance he leaves between them, and frowns at it, getting a quiet laugh out of Isak for it.

Mikael puts the phone down after a couple of minutes, and looks round at the three of them.

“We’ve found some friends willing to look after the stuff,” he says. “We just have to pack it up and move it out as soon as possible.”

“Can I come and help?” asks Even, and is quickly joined by Isak and Mutta agreeing with “me too”s.

Mikael shrugs. “Yeah, of course. We’re probably doing it, like, this evening though.”

“I’m not busy,” Mutta says quickly. 

Even glances at Isak first before agreeing when he sees his nod.

“Yeah, we’re in, too.”

He knows he shouldn’t have said we as soon as it’s out of his mouth. Mikael’s eyebrows go up as he looks between Isak and Even. It would be meaningless to anyone not as close as he and Mikael, but Even knows that Mikael knows.

“If the stuff all gets moved,” Mutta starts to ask, effectively interrupting anything that Mikael might say. “Will you be back in for the protesting?”

“Mutta, you’ve met my parents, right?” At Mutat’s nod, he continues. “So you know they wouldn’t let me back out of a protest like this?”

Mutta laughs. “Yeah, true.”

Even drives them all to Mikael’s place, with Mikael in the front seat - which feels wrong, but it’s definitely a good thing for his impulse control not to have Isak next to him.

They get out of the car, and Mutta and Isak start to head inside, but Mikael pulls Even back with a hand on his arm.

“Even.”

“Yeah?” He tries to reply as if he doesn’t know what Mikael is going to say - and, he doesn’t. What comes out of his mouth is - a complete surprise.

“You’re the dumbest fucking person I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks, I know.”

“Okay. Just making sure. And that you know what you’re doing.”

“I am fully aware of my own stupidity, yes.”

Mikael huffs a laugh, and just looks at Even for a moment, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I’m pretty impressed, though. I mean, didn’t you tell me he didn’t even want to join the revolution to start with?”

Even looks down at his feet and smiles at the memories. “Yeah.”

“Nice one,” Mikael grins. “Okay, well,I'm here, if you need any advice, or a lawyer…”

He tails off, and Even shoves him. 

“We're being careful.”

Mikael nods, grin fading a little. “You're not very good at subtlety, though.”

Even sighs. “I - if it's for him, I can be.”

“Shit, you're in deep.”

“Fuck off. Are we going in or what?”

*

It's a miserable sight, watching all the books and movies and art being packed away into boxes. 

Even knows it's happened before, a few times, in fact. But it's never not been sad to see the basement empty. 

He works next to Isak, trying to keep his touches to a minimum while they empty a shelf of books about queer history. He finds himself continually distracted by what's in the books instead of being able to help, and now he's getting eyeroll after eyeroll from Isak, but he's always been fascinated by what's in these books.

He's looking at a book about Stonewall when Mikael enters the room holding Even’s art - the one he copied to paint on the walls of a government building. 

“Even, do you want this? It's just - I don't think we can ask anyone to keep it. If it gets found it'll be serious.”

Even frowns but nods. “Yeah, that's fair. I don't think I can keep it, though. Probably not the best idea in uni accommodation.”

Mikael hums in agreement. “Then what should we do with it?”

Even shrugs. “Send it to the government as a big fuck you?”

“It has your name at the bottom.”

“Damn.”

“If no one can keep it - what will you do with it?” Isak asks.

Mikael replies with a guilty look. “Not much we can do with it. Get rid of it, I think. But it’s not like any of us can really keep it, I mean, they have all our names.”

Even gets it, he really does. Sure, he’d be sad to watch it disappear, maybe it would feel like one of many battles they lose in this whole revolution, but it really is a risk to keep it. And all the poetry he could get out of burning it would be pretty fucking amazing, maybe he could film it, because watching the flames destroy it - there’s such a mix of emotions in there. It’s pretentious, and overdramatic, but Even has never tried to claim that’s not who he is.

When he looks over to Isak, though - he wonders if he could watch any of that if he knew it would upset him.

“Do I have to decide now?” Even says, looking back at Mikael.

“We’re hoping to have the place clear by Monday,” Mikael says. “Just let me know what you want before then.”

*

“Are you really going to get rid of the painting?” 

Isak brings it up while he's curled into Evens chest that evening. He hadn't wanted to go home. and Even hadn't wanted him to either, so here they are in Evens room, buried under the blankets in the dark until they fall asleep.

“I don't think there's much else I can do with it,” Even says carefully. “I mean, everyone who might want it is kind of at risk if they keep it.”

“What if -” Isak pauses, hesitates, and takes a breath in as if building up courage. “What if you gave it to your mum?”

“I can't imagine that would go down well. ‘Hey, mum, here's some revolutionary art that I did and I need you to hide it.’”

“But she loves you,” Isak says. “You said so yourself.”

“I don't know if I said those exact words,” Even says. “I mean, she's -”

“So am I.”

Even laughs quietly. “And you wouldn't let me say ‘but you're different,’ would you?”

“I mean,” Isak smirks. “I  _ am  _ different. But, no. In this case, no.”

Even sighs out a smile, and brushes Isak’s hair away from his forehead so that he can put his lips there instead. “I'll think about it,” he murmurs. “How's that?”

“It's a start.”

*

Even quickly decides that sundays are his favourite days. There’s no reason to go anywhere, No reason to do anything past stay where they are under the covers. Snuggle in closer to Isak, bury his face in his neck, and just breathe. 

He wants to ignore the messages on his phone, the world outside, everything, but after half an hour of doing nothing, Isak pushes Even’s phone into his hand. 

“Did you think about it?” he asks.

“No, but you did,” smiles Even. 

In fact, Even did think about it. It went round in his head, over and over, and still he doesn’t know what the answer is.

But there’s a message from  _ Mum _ showing on the lockscreen, so he supposes he has to read it before he decides.

_ Even, _ the text reads.  _ I know you’ve believed for a while that our opinions on absolutely everything are different and incompatible. I just want you to know that although our statuses aren’t the same, and although I may not have reacted perfectly in the past, that I will always support you, in whatever you choose to believe and do. Please be safe. _

He exhales shakily.

“I think she knows what I’m doing,” he says slowly. “I think she might have - guessed, maybe she recognised the art, or read the interview, or something.”

“Yeah?” Isak asks, biting his lip as he looks at Even as if he’s not sure what reaction to give. 

Even nods. “Yeah. But I - I think it’s okay.”

*

She doesn’t ask questions when Even shows her the painting and asks her to keep it. All she does is nod warmly, and take it from him with a kind smile. 

Then, she takes one long look around his room, and shakes her head.

“Just because you have no roommate-”

Even tries not to react to that. Of course he’s the only person who sleeps in here. Of course no one else was here last night.

“-doesn’t mean you should let the place become an absolute dump,” she finishes, and Even looks down, mostly pretending that he’s ashamed, while in fact, hiding a grin. This is just so familiar.

She doesn’t stay long, claiming that she has jobs to do - Even knows she’s not exactly lying, she’s always busy, but he’s also pretty sure she’s doing this for him, so as not to overwhelm him completely.

For the short time she’s there, they stay away from the difficult subjects in anything more than subtext. She asks how he is, whether he’s looking after himself, and staying safe, but she doesn’t push. Even is grateful for that.

And then, she hugs him goodbye, holding on tightly, before leaving the room with a “send my love to Mikael. It’s so sad to think of that basement being empty. I hope they can recover soon.”

When the door closes behind her, she leaves him in stunned silence.

Mikael would have told him if he knew that his mum knew about the archives. Even is almost certain of that - and he can’t text to check because he can’t do anything to put them any more at risk in case he accidentally texts the wrong thing. 

Even is just - confused. Why hadn’t she said anything before?

*

He doesn’t see Isak until the next morning, and he feels significantly deprived of his presence that when he gets outside love class, his urge to press his nose into Isak’s hair and just inhale is almost too strong to resist.

But he  _ is _ good at subtle, okay? He can do this.

He leans against the wall next to him, with that painfully careful distance between them, and greets him with a calm “hey,” trying to push as much of what he feels into his smile as he can, because that’s the only part of him that can reach Isak.

“How was it with your mum?” Isak asks, and Even notices his hand reach out and fall back quickly.

“Good, yeah. It was okay,” Even will go into details later, when they’re alone again. For now, he watches Isak’s relieved smile, and forces down the urge to touch him further. Thankfully, Isak moves on before Even can dwell on it.

“I spoke to Jonas yesterday,” he says. “He’s been talking to Sana, trying to find a good solution - there’s a few options of what we want to achieve, but they were thinking the best option might be - might be letting people change their status.”

Even finds himself lost for words for a moment, looking at Isak. There’s - possibilities, in that. 

“They’ll discuss it at the meeting, but - it just seems like the best option for what we could realistically achieve.”

“Then - what-” 

He cuts himself off when he notices Vilde approaching the classroom, and looks down to check that the distance between them is still there. He’s glad he checked, because it’s getting significantly, dangerously, smaller.

Isak sighs, and meets his eyes. 

“We have to be nice to her, don’t we?” he mutters, and Even tries not to laugh.

“If we want any chance of changing her mind, I would say so.”

“Okay,” Isak replies. “But just so you know, until she does change her mind, this is all fake.” He turns to her, and smiles. “Hi, Vilde. Good weekend?”

All things considered, Even feels kind of hopeful about what could happen.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! You may have noticed that Rino and I planned something for literally the first time and updated the chapter count. We're almost at the end! Which is heartbreaking for me, because writing with Rino has been inspiring, motivational, and a true delight. I hope you enjoy these last few chapters!

The next meeting has a different atmosphere.

It lacks the fear of the last one and the excitement of the earlier ones. It’s organized and focused. It still feels urgent, but it’s not chaotic.

What hasn’t changed is the commitment everyone has to this; if anything, it’s stronger than it was before. They fully understand the risks, and that means they’ve all made a decision. Change is worth the consequences, and win or lose, they’re going to fight for it together.

It’s actually the most hopeful Isak’s felt since they began.

So, they get to work. Jonas defers the floor to Sana in an actual example of leadership, who outlines their plan.

“We’ve talked through all our options with Jonas’s lawyer,” she says. “And we’ve decided on a goal that’s both realistic and will impact the greatest number of people: allowing people to change their status.”

Jonas already gave Isak the heads up about this, but he hasn’t processed his own thoughts on it due to being distracted by both Even and his neglected studies, a classic lover vs. intellectual dilemma. He takes the moment to gage other people’s reactions to inform his own. Mikael seems skeptical. Magnus is excited. Yousef, of course, agrees with everything Sana says, which—does he expect Sana to change her status for him? Would she want to give up her career for him?

“Apparently, it’s already on the table,” Jonas says. “The government’s been considering it based on the idea that eighteen is really young to make that kind of choice. Their idea is that you still choose at eighteen, but you can change your status when you turn twenty-one. Not after that, which sucks, but at least it gives people a chance to live as a lover or intellectual before committing to their status forever.”

Even’s already twenty. Twenty-one still feels young.

“If they’re considering it,” Noora says. “Why haven’t there been public consultations?”

“Oh, I can answer this one,” Eva says. “It’s the same way they’re ‘considering’ implementing a living wage and eliminating plastic bags. You give it just enough attention to please some people, but not enough to alienate the rest. They’re not going to do shit without pressure from the public.”

“Which is where we come in,” Sana says. “But this time, we’re not going to waste our energy writing letters that are going straight in shredder. We’ll protest in front of their office until they agree to meet with us.”

“Because that worked so well last time?” Mikael asks.

“We weren’t a threat last time,” Sana says. “There’s no real political pressure to end the system, but there are already people advocating for this change. They don’t have a reason not to meet with us, especially since this proposal is less radical.”

“Who is ‘us’ going to be?” Mutta asks. “Our following wants to end the system. It’s literally in the handle. Do you think they’ll settle for this?”

“Depends how good you are at social media,” Sana says, raising her eyebrows in a challenge.

“We just need to frame it correctly,” Even says.

Isak’s been good about keeping his distance from Even this meeting, though it’s harder now that he’s speaking. He tries to look at Even in a way that conveys _I am actively listening to you because that is how conversation works_ and not _I am eye-fucking you._ It’s a delicate balance.

“Because there’s big picture benefits to this change too,” Even continues. “If people see an intellectual become a lover, or vice versa, they’ll start to realize that statuses are fluid because they’re bullshit. We’ll get more support for ending the system.”

It’s assignments from there. Even, Mutta, and Mahdi will work on social media. Eva and Jonas will try to get intel on how the government has “considered” this change. Sana, Noora, and Yousef will see how the organizations they’ve been working with can support this initiative. Everyone else, including Isak, is off the hook for now, but fuck this is moving quickly. It was one thing when they were fighting for a vague idea of a revolution, but this, this could actually happen. Things could actually change.

Isak could change his status. And he’s still not sure how he feels about that as the meeting ends and people begin to leave, so whatever, he’ll sort that out if the time comes. The group has a consensus, goal, and a plan, end of discussion. He just needs to show up for them and do the work, fuck the feelings that could distract him from that.

But when Even leaves with only a wave goodbye, it seems obvious that Isak should become a lover. They’ll be able to spend more time together. They’ll be safe. They’ll be able to fucking hold hands in public, something Isak wants more than he ever expected to. Of course, of fucking course that’s the choice he should make.

Sana, who was talking to Jonas after the meeting ended, approaches Isak before she leaves. “You’re studying with me this afternoon,” she says.

“What?”

“I know you’re behind in biology. I looked at your last test score.” That is a fun thing about university: grades are public. According to their mission statement, it encourages ambition. According to reality, it promotes the kind of competitiveness that’s fueled by insecurity.

Though, not in this case. Isak recognizes that Sana’s trying to help, and he’s grateful to have chosen a life with friends in it. “Yeah, ok. Thanks.”

“You’ll owe me, though. Especially when I’m busy with this revolution stuff since, let’s be clear, I’m doing way more work on it than you are.”

She’s not wrong: from the beginning, she’s worked harder than anyone else. Isak recalls her first meeting, back when she was doing _preliminary research_ to determine if this revolution was worthwhile. Now, she’s the one ensuring it will be. He can imagine her as a lover, sure, but he can’t imagine her _not_ being an intellectual.

“Sana,” Isak says. “If this happens, would you change your status?”

Sana does not seem all that surprised by the question. It’s as annoying as it useful that she can read him like that.

“No,” she says, more confident than Isak expected. “I’m going to be a surgeon.”

“But what about…you know?”

 _You know_ , they both know, goes by Yousef.

“It’s a choice I have to make. Again.” Sana smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “At least until we eradicate the system for good. I know I’d always resent someone who kept me from my career.”

“And you’re cool with never falling in love?”

It’s a question Isak never thought he’d ask in earnest.

“Isak, the system has never actually stopped anyone from falling in love.”

\---

Despite everything that’s changed in Isak’s life, one thing has remained consistent. He still fucking hates love class.

And it’s made worse, if that’s possible, by group discussions. Their professor decided to keep them in the same groups all semester, meaning Isak’s working with Even, Ingrid, and fucking Vilde again.

He tried to be nice to her last class. He really, really did, but when asked about her weekend, she rolled her eyes and walked away. Isak can only give her another chance if she extends the same to him.

“Ok, I know you’re all following the news,” their professor says. “And the latest idea is giving people the opportunity to change their status.”

Isak does not risk looking at Even, not with Vilde this close, but he does feel a swell of pride. Even’s created some graphics for their Instagram, using the phrase: _Another chance to choose._ With each post, he’s collaborated with Mutta and Mahdi on writing captions that outline the proposal and its benefits, and it seems to be working. There are some angry comments accusing them of giving up on the real goal, and there are always hateful comments from the system’s defenders, but there’s finally more support than anything else.

“I want you to discuss the ramifications of an intellectual choosing to be a lover instead.”

Isak feels like he’s been caught. He’s actually grateful Even’s not looking at him.

Unlike the last group discussion, no one is eager to speak first. “Ok,” Ingrid says after a long minute. She seems more concerned about ending the awkward silence than voicing her opinion. “I guess it’s the same risk of making the choice after high school? Someone meets a cute guy and their hormones make the decision for them? So, it’s no worse than the system now.”

“That’s not exactly true,” Vilde says. “There aren’t only personal ramifications, but societal ones. We’ve invested in this intellectual’s education, and they’ve wasted it for love.”

Isak could argue with her, but really, what would that accomplish? Pissing her off even more? She has too much intel on them to risk that. This isn’t the setting to change her mind, and judging by his silence, Even agrees.

Vilde, however, seems unsettled.

“You don’t have a rebuttal ready?” she asks, directed more towards Even than Isak. “I thought you had a list of sarcastic quips in your notebook.”

“Ah Vilde, you know I’m not that good of a student,” Even says. “But no, no rebuttal. I can’t think of any problem with an intellectual choosing to be a lover, so I can’t answer the question. You can, and I may disagree with you, but that’s the assignment.”

“Ok,” she says, though it’s as unsure as Isak’s ever heard her. “Isak, do you want to actually do some work? Maybe learn something?”

“Uh, I do have a point to make,” Isak says, catching Even’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “That person had to make another choice. And if they’re changing their mind, clearly their last decision stressed them out, so this one probably will too. They’re never going to be satisfied with their status, so it’s almost like you’re not giving them a choice at all. You’re giving them another decision to regret.”

Isak’s words are even more jumbled than his thoughts, but Vilde doesn’t take his point anyway. “Can we please keep revolutionary ideas out of class?” she says. “If someone isn’t satisfied with their status, it’s because they’re not living up to it.”

“But what does that even look like?” Isak asks. “For a lover, it’s what, some romantic shit—”

“A symphony outside my window, preferably. And rose petals on the bed are a classic,” Even says. “Though really, any ‘romantic shit’ will do.”

Isak gets the not-so-subtle hint, and he wants to banter, he wants to play, but this is definitely not the setting for that. “Sure, and for an intellectual it’s having a good career, right? But how many people do you know with good careers that aren’t happy? They’re living up to their status, but fuck, is that really supposed to be enough?”

“Happiness isn’t the goal for intellectuals,” Vilde says. “It’s production.”

Isak was not going to argue this class, but that is just too fucking sad. “Do you honestly believe in that?”

“Of course. Intellectuals aren’t supposed to feel big emotions like that, good or bad. It keeps us safe enough to do our jobs.”

“There is nothing safe about not feeling anything. Trust me.”

The professor brings the class back together then to share their discussions. Vilde offers her point to the class; Isak does not offer his. When class is dismissed a hundred years later, Isak follows Even out to go to his dorm room. Vilde follows them. 

“What?” Isak asks, exhausted before the conversation’s even begun. He’s never getting through to her, but then again, he wonders if that’s how Jonas used to feel about him.

“You think I don’t feel anything?” she asks. Isak shrugs: the answer is no,  but he also knows how damn hard you have to suppress that shit. “Because I have, Isak. I have felt more shit than you’ll probably ever understand. Why should I put myself through that again?”

Her voice cracks, but Isak hears something else in her voice: a plea. She’s not presenting her question as genuine, but it is.

“Because you have to feel the shit to feel the good stuff,” Isak says. “And the good stuff is worth it.”

“What if some of us don’t get the good stuff?”

“You already have it. You have Chris, right?”

Vilde’s eyes widen; it’s the first time they’ve acknowledged their connection, though of course they both fucking know about it. Isak figures he may as well be honest; it’s worked well for him thus far. “Yes,” she says, slowly.

“That friendship will just get better when you let yourself feel more. And once you’ve opened yourself up like that, you’ll let new people in.”

In a dangerous move, Even puts his hand on Isak’s shoulder, an echo of their first touch. Isak remembers it now, the jolt he felt. The excitement, and the nerves, and the embarrassment that Even had recognized Isak as a person who felt more than he should.

Even’s touch steadies him now.

“Your career will be fine,” Isak says. “You’ll just be happier.”

“Even if you’re right,” Vilde says after a beat, quieter now. “What does it matter? We still have the system.”

She walks away with that, and Isak sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says before Even can say anything. “I know pushing things with her is dangerous, and I know it’s not going to fucking do anything—”

“Hey,” Even says. “If you think I’m anything other than incredibly turned on by you right now, you don’t know me at all.”

Isak laughs. “Then let’s go back to your room.”

\---

Still an intellectual, Isak approaches his relationship with Even with logic.

“Every minute we spend in public,” Isak says, Even trailing his fingers down Isak’s arm as they lie in bed. “Is a minute we can’t spend touching, or kissing, or engaging in other relationship perks.”

“Perks,” Even repeats with a grin.

“Perks. Therefore, when we’re alone, we have to make up for lost time. I suggest we begin with making-out.”

“We already did that.”

“Sure, we did it for our alone time, but we have not recovered our losses yet.”

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

“Prove it.”

Even raises his eyebrows as Isak leans in, but pulls away before their lips can touch, shaking his head. “Seriously?” Isak says.

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Ok?”

“You’re trying to distract me from talking about today.”

Isak frowns, not sure that’s true. He hasn’t thought about his conversation with Vilde since it ended or about changing his status and—oh. Maybe that’s the issue.

“What you said in class,” Even says when Isak doesn’t take the bait. “About changing your status being another decision to regret?”

“I just said that for something to say.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

It’s not an accusation; there’s no anger or annoyance in it. All Isak hears is: _you can trust me_.

And he does. Isak’s never believed in someone’s kindness, honesty, or even humour the way he believes in Even’s. He loves him, and that means he chose the wrong status.

But.

He loved studying with Sana too. He likes learning. He still wants to be a doctor. He could help people. How could he give that up?

How could he give up Even?

Why the fuck should he have to choose again?

“I can hear you thinking,” Even says. “Let me into it.”

“You’re going to think I’m selfish.”

“Try me.”

Isak trusts him.

“When I was talking to Vilde,” Isak says. “I believed everything I said. That we need to feel and shit, and my life is better for that, my life is better because of you. And now it’s possible that I wouldn’t have to hide that, I could live openly, I could be with you—if I’m allowed to change my status.”

“You’d become a lover?”

“I guess? But I don’t know, because I like being an intellectual too. It’s stupid, but I feel like I’m meant to be a doctor.”

“That is not stupid at all.”

“I just. I don’t want to choose who I am again.”

It’s quiet for longer than Isak’s comfortable with, and he’s worried Even’s mad until he speaks again.

“I can tell you who you are. You’re Isak Valtersen. You’re a bit of an asshole. You’re funny, though not as funny as you think you are. You’re open-minded. You’re a fucking good kisser. You’re the laziest hard worker I’ve ever known. You’re kinder and more gracious than anyone gives you credit for. You are loved by your mom, by Jonas, by Eva, but mostly by me.”

“But am I a lover or an intellectual?”

Isak’s voice is as small as the meaning of those words.

“Neither, Isak. You’re just a person.”

Isak gets the sentiment, he does, but it doesn’t change reality. Until they dismantle the system for good, society will force him to be one or the other. “I should become a lover,” Isak says. “If we get caught, you know it’ll be worse for you than it is for me. That would keep you safe.”

“Isak, do you honestly think I won’t find another way to get in trouble?”

Isak laughs and shakes his head: no, not at all.

“We don’t even know if this will happen yet,” Even says. “And there’s still so much time before you turn twenty-one. Who knows what kind of progress we’ll have made by then?”

There is a small, ugly voice in Isak’s head that says _maybe not much_ , but he tries to ignore it. He prefers hope now.

“Whatever happens, I’d never ask you to make that choice based on me. A fucking status isn’t going to stop us from being together. We are both a hell of a lot more resilient than that.”

That’s true.

Lying with Even, Isak understands who they are. They are not an intellectual and a lover. They are both smart; they are both compassionate. They are playful and passionate. They are sometimes sadder than they know how to be. They are fucking resilient.

That’s their status.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there! apologies for the wait heh, you really should expect this of me by now  
> this is my last chapter! (well i think the next chapter might be split but who knows yet, me and bri dont _plan things_ )  
> and can i say what an ADVENTURE this fic has been! it's been so so so lovely to write with bri, i can't honeslty tell u all how wonderful she is to write with, its been such an honour i'm sdjfhskdjs that she asked me to help  
> i hope u guys enjoy this, love to you all for reading <33333

Now that it’s completely empty, Mikael’s basement has a different atmosphere.

It’s making them both miserable, but they have the space, and Mikael’s family wants to do something with it instead of just leaving it empty, now, there’s a huge white banner spread out on the floor, a design already outlined on it, paint cans around the edge, and they’re just waiting for the others to arrive.

“You usually get to move everything back, though, right?” Even says with foolish hope in his voice. He knows it’s happened before, though, and they got the stuff back after that. 

Mikael shrugs. “It’s not quite as simple now. Last couple of times it was just because attention on this place was getting out of control and the police were planning a drugs raid or something. This time they actually have a name - my name - that’s going to be associated with all the protests.”

“So - what’s gonna happen?” 

Mikael shrugs. “We’ll probably open the archives somewhere else, under a different name, but,” he sighs. “They won’t come back here any time soon, unless the censorship laws are relaxed.”

Even attempts a sly smile. “We know what our next protest is gonna be, then.”

“We haven’t even had the first one yet,” Mikael laughs, shaking his head. “For all we know it’ll end with us all behind bars.”

“Where’s your optimism, Mikael?” Even laughs. “It’ll work out.”

In the silence that follows, Even imagines that they're both letting themselves believe it. 

“Maybe it will,” Mikael admits after a moment. “I mean, the social media stuff is going well, right?”

“Yeah,” Even nods, answering truthfully. “There's enough support to make us believe that at least someone's gonna show up to the protest.”

“Better than no one,” Mikael says.

“Yeah,” Even agrees. “Better than no one.”

Silence falls again.

“Who are we waiting for?” Mikael asks eventually.

“Oh, uh, just Yousef and Mutta, I think.”

“Not Isak?”

Even laughs and looks down at his feet. “We’re not completely inseparable,” he says. “But no, Isak had to study.”

Mikael considers him for a moment. “What if this protest works? Will he still -”

“No idea,” Even says. “Or, I mean - he wants to be a doctor. He’d be a good doctor.”

“And you?”

“We’re still - well, as far as it lasts, we’ll stay together, I hope-”

“No, but,” Mikael takes a breath. “You could change, too.”

If Even had expected that from anyone, it wouldn’t be from Mikael. He lets out a surprised laugh and a “what?” expecting Mikael to crack, but he doesn’t.

Mikael shrugs. “I mean, you’ve already got a place at uni.”

“Yeah, but - I’m a lover. You know that.” He says it with a conviction that vanishes a second later. Didn’t he just talk about this to Isak last night? That they’re both neither, just humans, just people who love, and are smart, and feel things, and learn things, all at the same time? “But I’m still bipolar, anyway,” he says. “And the law’s not likely to change before my birthday, even if it does change.”

Mikael hums. “But it could.”

Even can’t think up a good response straightaway, still deep in thought about whether he should, or could change, and why it would be Mikael bringing it up. It’s true that maybe intellectuals aren’t all the enemy anymore, and maybe he is more than whatever his status is - but what does it matter? What does any of it matter, what difference would it make?

Mikael answers that for him too. “You always kind of wanted to be a designer.”

“An artist,” Even replies, although he doesn’t disagree. “There’s a difference.”

The conversation is cut short by the arrival of Yousef and Mutta, and Even tries to think of a good excuse as to why he’s so quiet throughout the afternoon. 

*

They have a banner, and signs, and they have a time and a place. They’ve let everyone know when and where to go, and people have responded. More people than Even knows what to do with have responded. 

They’ll definitely be blocking traffic, if they all show up. Might be able to block up the entrance of the town hall, too, if they can get in.

Whatever happens, there’ll be noise, and attention. Maybe it’s illegal for the news to report on it, but they managed to report anyway for the graffiti. 

Even is hopeful, and terrified, and excited all at once. His fingers are tapping non stop against his leg, and Isak is giving him a teasing glare, a reflection of how he used to look at him. Almost immediately as Even catches sight of him, Isak grins, and crosses the room over to where he’s sitting on his bed, cuddling in close to his side, hand taking Even’s.

“Nervous?”

Even presses his lips together for a moment, trying to deny it. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Even huffs. “I’m meant to be the chill one.”

“You? Chill?”

“I don’t know how you could think otherwise,” Even replies. “I’m the epitome of calm and collected.”

There’s a warmth in Isak’s teasing smile that makes Even’s chest feel overwhelmingly full.

He exhales, releasing everything. “I just don’t know if anyone’s gonna show up tomorrow.”

He half expects Isak to shut him up, tell him he’s worrying about nothing,  _ of course _ people will show up, but it’s not what happens. He simply nods.

“I guess we’ve no real way of knowing,” he says. 

Oddly enough, Even feels calmer at that response than he would have at reassurance that people will show. 

“But we can share a bed in prison,” Isak says, nudging his shoulder into Even’s. 

Even flicks his eyebrows up. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” Isak smiles. “Who else would I share with?”

Even reaches up to pull him in for a kiss. “No one, I hope,” he murmurs against Isak’s lips. 

They get lost in it for a while. It’s a good distraction, and it’s just nice in itself, but there’s kind of more that needs to be said. It’s not fair not to let Isak in on it when he asked that of Isak last time.

“I’ve, uh -” he pulls away as little as possible from Isak, just enough to speak. “I mean, I - you know when I went to Mikael’s a couple of days ago?”

Isak nods, eyes fixed on Even. 

“He pointed something out that I didn’t exactly - consider. And I might not be able to consider it, because you know, we don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow, and I’m - well, anyway.” Even breathes in. “I could switch, too.”

Isak reacts to the news as Even expected - calm confusion, quickly dissolving into understanding. “Would you want that?” he asks. 

“I have no idea,” Even confesses. “But I mean, it’s not that I would hate it, anymore. I’d be able to, you know, have a career, and I know I wouldn’t have to be like all intellectuals.”

Isak smiles. “No, you wouldn’t.”

Even looks down. “I shouldn’t be thinking about it so much,” he says quietly. “I mean, it’s unlikely that I’ll get a chance, but - I just thought I should tell you. I made you tell me.”

“I’m glad you told me,” Isak says. “I don’t know what the answer is, or if there needs to be one, but whatever you decide, I’m not going anywhere. Same with whatever happens tomorrow. I’m staying next to you.”

Even smiles. “I just hope the prison bed is big enough.”

*

**Mum:** Good luck today, Even. You were probably expecting this, but I can’t make it out to support you. I hope it goes well though, all my love xxx

**Even:** thanks mum, love you

*

There’s not no one. There’s not even just a few.

The main square is full. It’s better than anything they could have hoped for.

The banner that Even and the boys painted is at the centre of it all, with hundreds of people gathered around it, taking photos, and raising signs of their own in defiance and in solidarity.

Jonas is standing among it all, grin wide and Eva’s arm tight around his shoulders. Even’s never understood their relationship, doesn’t think Isak understands it enough to explain it, but they seem happy. Of course they do - there’s so many people here. So many people fighting for them and with them and it’s bright and loud and colourful and it’s making the exact statement that they wanted to make. 

There are people with hearts on their cheeks, countless people wandering round with red face paint or even just lipstick, offering everyone a heart of their own. Even isn’t standing with Isak at this point, separated by crowds, but he sees him accepting a heart. 

When he finds his way back to him a few minutes later, Even grins and pokes the heart on his cheek. 

“Risky move,” he says. “I approve.”

Isak rolls his eyes with a smile. “Yeah. I thought you might.”

They’re interrupted by an overexcited Mutta and Yousef grinning next to him. Mutta runs up behind and throws his arms around Even with a yell.

“How awesome is this, dude!” 

Even laughs. “It’s pretty awesome.” 

Isak opens his mouth to speak, then stops again quickly, eyes fixed on a point behind them. He stares for a second, then flicks his eyebrows up, grins, and nods to encourage Even and Mutta to turn. 

Chris is walking towards them with a nervous smile, pulling someone behind her - someone with a baseball cap firmly down over their eyes, but with an unmistakable blonde ponytail. 

Even glances back at Isak in shock, moving back a little to whisper to him. 

“I always knew you were persuasive, but this is a new level.”

Isak shrugs, his smile betraying him. “I think it's mostly Chris's work,” he says. “But I'm strangely glad she's here.”

Chris and Vilde reach them a second later, and Chris glances round at them all, while Vilde’s gaze stays down at the floor. 

“Hey, guys,” she starts nervously. “I hope it's okay that I'm here - I - we wanted to show our support.”

Her gaze lingers on Mutta for a moment, and the traces of a smile appear on his face,but it doesn't seem as though he'll actually speak, so Even does. 

“It's really great to see you guys, “ be says, and Isak nods from next to him. “Thanks for showing up.”

Chris nods, and Vilde raises her head for a brief second before ducking back down to look again at the floor. Even has no way of knowing how much she wants to be here, and how much she's been dragged along by Chris. Isak isn't giving much away from his smile, only that he seems pleased to see her. 

Even will definitely tease him about that later. 

There's uncomfortable silence between them all for a moment, until Yousef speaks up, giving Even and Isak a meaningful look as he does. 

“I think I'm gonna go find Jonas, see what's happening, you guys coming?”

Isak and Even look at each other, and nod, moving to follow behind him as he moves away through the crowd, leaving Mutta behind with Chris and Vilde. Before they get too far out of sight among the crowds, Even notices Vilde follow behind too,reaching out to Isak. 

“Can I talk to you?” she says cautiously. 

Isak raises one eyebrow, and glances at Even, widening his eyes infinitesimally before nodding at Vilde. “Sure.”

Even leaves them behind, and continues to follow Yousef through the crowd. He knows Isak will catch up later, and tell him what was said. 

For now, he falls in step beside Yousef, who turns to him excitedly. “You’ll never guess who followed the endthesystem account this morning.”

“Like, a hundred different people?” Even asks. Every time he checks it feels like the followers double, recently. It’s thrilling, and all kinds of overwhelming.

“Elias,” Yousef says, 

Even tries to keep his reaction normal, a steady gaze, steady expression, steady breathing. Tries not to show the shock on his face. “You mean, Sana hacked his insta?” he tries to joke. “Doesn’t seem like her style.”

“No, man, it wasn’t Sana. Elias followed the account.”

“Okay…” Even pauses. “And?”

“I mean, it’s something, right?”

“It might be,” Even concedes. “It also might just be him trying to keep an eye on us.”

“He doesn't know it's us, though.”

“Yousef,” Even says plainly. “Between you being his best friend and Sana being his sister, he's gonna notice something. After all, he is an intellectual.”

“Yeah, but--” Yousef sighs. “I don't know, man. We haven't been hanging out that much recently. I knew it'd happen, he's an intellectual now, but Sana said he doesn't seem so happy about it lately.”

Even isn't convinced yet - finds it hard to feel any sympathy for someone who made it so clear he wasn't welcome after he decided to be a lover, but - he tries. 

“Well, anyone'd be sad to lose their best friend,” he offers. “That's why we're protesting, right? To get rid of the idea that you can't have friends and still be smart.”

“Yeah,” Yousef agrees. “Yeah, exactly. I think we might be getting that through to him too, finally.*

Even smiles, a genuine smile. “Good. That's good.”

Maybe they are, maybe they're not.  Either way, it's making Yousef more hopeful, and that can only be a good thing. 

They find Sana in the crowd, and Yousef grins widely at her, before telling her the same news he just told Even, in a more excited tone this time. Sana smiles at him, and Even takes it as his cue to leave, to go and find someone else in the crowd. There's hundreds of people here, enough for him to find countless other people whose moments he won't be interrupting. 

Mikael isn't far away, talking to a boy Even doesn't know - actually he's flirting, now that Even looks closer, but Even catches his eye through the crowd, and he rolls his eyes, says something to the guy with a sweet smile and a hand on his shoulder, and moves to join Even. 

“So when do I get to meet him?” Even asks. 

“Literally never, when have you ever had a positive effect on my potential boyfriends?”

“That's offensive. I'm nothing but charming.”

“You’re also my ex. Most people think it’s weird.”

Even smirks. “Isak didn’t. Maybe you’ll know you’ve found  _ the one _ when you find someone who doesn’t think it’s weird.”

He only realises what he’s said when Mikael raises his eyebrows.

“You think Isak is -”

“I think it’s a bad idea to pin all your romantic expectations onto one person,” Even says quickly.

“But?”

Even rolls his eyes. “But?” he echoes, as if he doesn’t sort of want to elaborate. He caves after a few seconds. “I probably-” definitely. “-love him. Shut up.” 

“I wasn’t gonna say anything!” Mikael protests, grinning. “But I’m happy for you.”

Even smiles down at the floor, then looks up, around at the crowd, and changes the subject. 

“Is your family here? I haven't seen them yet.”

“Yeah, they’re over by the fountain, I think. Why?”

Even shrugs, looking over to the fountain, and sees them through the crowd, surrounded by a flood of people as usual, all probably thanking them for their work for the cause, or commiserating with them over the recent events. 

“Just wondered. It's nice that they can finally start showing up to protests and stuff, isn't it?”

“Ever the optimist, aren't you?” Mikael sighs. “But yeah. They're pretty happy about it too.”

As he looks around at the crowd, Even realises Mikael might be right about the optimist thing. Yeah, it's early stages, so the protesting has only just started, and it's only for something so little as changing status at this point. There are police at the edges of the crowds, preventing them from blocking the traffic like they wanted to, and people walking past in the street with disapproving looks as they look at the crowds, but there's so much more to it. 

The amount of love here is - incredible. The amount of people with smiles on their faces, talking to old friends, new friends, people they've never met before. The excitement and joy in the air is palpable, Even can't get enough of it. 

He sees everyone he knows through the crowds. Eva is now talking to Noora, smiles wide on both their faces. Jonas has joined Magnus and Mahdi elsewhere, and the three of them are fooling around, laughing loudly - Even can't hear it from here, but he imagines if he could, he knows what it'd sound like. Yousef is still deep in conversation with Sana, more lovestruck than ever - and Sana herself doesn't seem unaffected by the interaction, there's a blush high in her cheeks, and a certain adoration in her gaze, not that Even would ever dare point it out to her. 

Mutta and Chris are still talking, still with space between them and a careful guard up, but they're smiling. A few seconds later, Vilde joins them, too, and she's still wearing her hat, but her gaze isn't as fixed down to the floor as it was. 

Isak isn't with her anymore, though, so maybe he's - 

“Hey.”

There he is. Even fills up with more happiness than he knows what to do with as he turns to him. 

“Hey yourself,” he replies, holding himself back from reaching out - but he can do that later. Just not here. 

Mikael rolls his eyes from beside Even. “I'll just go, shall I?”

Even laughs. “Go find your boyfriend,” he says. “Maybe you'll find he's the one after all.”

Mikael doesn't justify this with a response more than a dramatic sigh, but leaves them to it. 

“What did Vilde want?” Even asks. 

Isak huffs a laugh, as if he doesn't really believe what he's about to say. “Mostly she wanted an excuse to leave Chris and Mutta alone for a while.”

Even grins. “Woah. She's learning, then.”

“She says she hasn't changed her mind yet, but she wants Chris to be happy, and she'll try and at least keep an open mind.”

“And you're sure it was Vilde?”

“Not really, no,” Isak smiles. “It's reassuring, though, isn't it? I mean, Vilde, of all people.”

Even nods. “I guess we just need to find her someone to fall in love with, and  _ then _ she’ll change her mind, I’m sure of it.”

“And someone to show her the archives, when they open again.”

“Oh, is that where you fell in love with me?”

Isak hums, deep in thought. His gaze turns soft as he meets Even’s eyes again. “I don’t think I could name an exact time. But seeing your art was pretty helpful.”

Even grins and reaches out, then pulls his hand back. His grin fades a little, until he sees Isak glance around at the crowds around them, and takes Even hand, squeezing tightly. 

“You’re getting idiotic,” Even smirks. “Is this all because I kissed you?”

“Probably,” Isak says, but he doesn’t let go immediately.

They’re interrupted a few seconds later, though, by Jonas catching their attention by waving through the crowds, beckoning them over to where he is. Isak drops Even’s hand as they work their way over to Jonas, but it’s okay. Even knows he’ll take it again later.

“What’s up?” Even asks as they reach the others. Everyone who’s been at the meetings is gathered there with them, with the exception of Chris, but Even spots her through the crowds with Vilde, and she catches his eye and grins at him.

Jonas is almost bouncing with excitement, holding his phone in one hand. “We have news,” he says. “They’ll make an official announcement later, but my dad just texted me.”

“I thought you had his number blocked,” Isak says with narrowed eyes. 

“He did,” Eva says. “My mum texted me to tell Jonas to unblock his dad, and also to tell me she can see me out the window and I should be wearing a coat.”

There’s laughs from around the group, and a significant smile between Eva and Isak. 

“Anyway,” Jonas interrupts. “Like I said, I have news. They’re going to schedule a public consultation. About being able to change your status.” He looks around at them all, triumphant. “We kinda won.”

“Winning is pushing it a bit,” Sana replies quickly, “There's still a long way to go.”

Jonas shrugs. “Fine, but we got somewhere. We can be proud of this.”

And they are. Even knows they are, every single person in the group - and soon enough, when the announcement is made, every single person in the square - will be proud of this. It’s the first step towards something amazing, towards the world that Even, that  _ everyone _ wants, a world where there’s no restrictions on who’s allowed to feel. 

He’s wanted it for a long time, and with Isak by his side, he wants it even more.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I speak for both Rino and myself when I say that we are both very grateful to have written this together and very emotional now that it's over. And of course, incredibly grateful for all of you who have read, gave kudos, and commented along the way. We hope you'll enjoy the end of the story. 
> 
> This chapter functions more like an epilogue with a split POV: Rino wrote Even's, I wrote Isak's, and then we both cried. 
> 
> ❤️❤️❤️

“Do you think the government still has our names?”

Even turns to Mikael with an eyebrow raised. “Do they have any reason not to?”

Mikael looks away sheepishly. “Well, no. But it’d be nice to think that they might just, like, forget us after two and a half years.”

There’s probably a reason he’s talking about this.

“Mikael, seriously. You don’t have to come with us,” Even says.

It’s the first time Mikael has joined in on this, though he hasn’t been at risk of getting the archives found if he’s arrested for a long time now. Mostly because there really hasn’t been that much opportunity. Even has had to keep the graffiti irregular and unpredictable, so he's only made about 7 in total.

Today - tonight, they're once again at Mutta’s apartment, ready to leave. It's 2AM and there's a simple design in Even’s head, and plans for where and how long it'll take, and the colours he’ll need are in his bag.

In a way, it gets scarier every time they do this, because it gets more likely they'll get caught as they get familiar, even comfortable in the routine they have. With every new post they make on Instagram, the police get more on alert for troublemaking, and there's been a couple of copycats, too, so there's more and more security around, especially in the city centre. It almost seems impossible _not_ to get caught.

Even wouldn't give up the thrill of it for anything.

But it's definitely not everyone's idea of fun. Especially not Mikael's. Yousef and Mutta, he can believe. Despite their complaints about the late hour, and having to “babysit” Even while he does this, there's something about the energy they have while they bounce on their feet in the hallway that tells Even they love it too.

*Yeah, man,” Yousef says patiently. “Don't worry. Stay behind if you want.”

“You can chill out here,” Mutta suggests. “Just as long as you don’t wake Chris.”

“No, I wanna come,” Mikael protests. “We wanna end censorship, right? That's why we're doing this. I think it's pretty relevant for me.”

“It is, but if you want to stay back, we can manage without you,” Even says, only realising after he's spoken that it sounds kind of mean. “No offense,” he adds quickly.

Mikael glares at him. “I'm coming with,” he says.

“Then let's go,” says Yousef. “It's already late.”

Even nods, pulling his phone out one last time to reread the text Isak had sent earlier.

 **Isak:** i love you. don't get arrested.

 **Even:** I'll try not to. love you too.

*

Their new slogan _LOVE EXISTS_ is everywhere the next day. The pride Even feels after something like this goes right hasn't lessened since the first time. and the response to it has only gotten better.

There's still plenty of negativity, of course. But there's enough positivity for Even to surround himself with that.

He goes for coffee with Mikael while he waits for Isak to finish his classes. He's still in third year, while Even graduated last year - barely graduated, and still with zero opportunities past working an unskilled job.

They finally got their progress, last year. The law changed to allow people to change their status on their 21st birthday.

Even had just turned 22.

He can never really tell how upset he is about it. In fact, he's kind of relieved that he never had the chance to make the choice again, because he still doesn't know what he would have decided.

But there's always that little twinge of regret when he thinks of everything he could be doing, if he was an intellectual.

Mikael looks dead on his feet when he arrives at the cafe.

“I'm not used to late nights,” he explains. “Why did you talk me into that?”

Even just rolls his eyes.  “You’ve seen the response, though, right? I’d say it was worth it.”

“Yeah, my parents are pretty happy. Did you put anything on insta about it?”

“I did, and ironically, the account got shut down. Look.”

He shows Mikael the article he’d seen earlier, titled “ _Protesters campaign to put an end to censorship - and get censored.”_

“They really shot themselves in the foot there,” Mikael says, laughing.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Later, the subject turns to Isak.

“It’s his birthday soon, right?” Mikael asks.

“Yeah,” Even replies quietly. “21st.”

“Have you ta-”

“Extensively.”

“And?”

Even shrugs. “Still not 100% sure either way. But hey, you’re coming to his party, right?”

Mikael narrows his eyes, but must recognise that the conversation won’t go anywhere.

*

It would be so nice to be able to pick Isak up from uni. To hold his hand in public. To move in with him, one day.

He’s seen Chris and Mutta get it all, after she changed five months ago. They’re happier than ever, together publicly, and carefree, and he’s seen Isak watch them too.

He’s also seen Isak talk about what he’s studying in uni with such a look of excitement on his face, and Even couldn’t bear to take that away from him.

So he doesn’t pick him up from uni, or hold his hand. He still lives with his mother, and she doesn’t know about them. He texts Isak after his classes are done.

 **Even:** are you coming round? I miss you

 **Isak:** you saw me yesterday

but yeah obviously i’m coming round.

i miss you too

\---

“How am I going to learn all these names?”

Isak bites back his response: _ask the government, I’m sure they have a cheat sheet._ Still, he smiles at his mom as she surveys his friends, all gathered to celebrate his 21st birthday.

She has a point. There’s a lot of them.

“We’ll go one at a time,” he says, catching Even’s eye as he approaches them from across the living room. When he reaches them, he hands Isak a slice of birthday cake. “This is Even.”

“Really nice to meet you,” Even says, shaking her hand. Turning his attention to Isak, he says, “You know, I’m little offended you haven’t tried this. You saw the hours I spent on Instagram, watching YouTube tutorials, trying to get it just right—”

“And I was with you when you burned it. And bought this one at the bakery.”

“Minor details.” Even puts his hand on Isak’s shoulder, then quickly retracts it. “I’ll catch up with you later, ok? I have to finish your gift.”

“How did you even graduate when you don’t do anything until the day it’s due?”

“My undeniable charm and wit, of course.”

“Hm. Somehow I forgot about that.”

They share a smile even Isak knows is too obvious. And once Even’s gone, the expression on his mom’s face says the same thing. “What?” Isak asks.

“Isak. I might not be an intellectual, but I’m not stupid.”

Isak doesn’t know what to say. If he confirms it, he’s burdening his mom with his knowledge that could put her in danger. If he denies it, he’s lying to her. If he apologizes for it—well, fuck, he’s not doing that. He’s not sorry that he loves Even.

Isak doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to with his mom.

“You know,” she says. “I still talk to Jonas’s mom. I know what he’s about, and I know that you’ve gotten all these new friends, and I know there’s a…resistance happening. I know, Isak.”

Isak looks away. He can’t protect her from everything. “Are you mad?”

“I’m worried,” she says. “I’ll always be worried about you, but I also know how much happier you’ve been these past couple of years. I like seeing all your friends here. I liked meeting Even. And I think you’re doing the right thing.”

It’s not validation Isak needed, but he’s grateful for it anyway. “Thank you."

“But you know, there is a way for you to be safer.”

He does. It’s been sitting on the kitchen table, unopened, for a month. But he’s seen the pictures online, so he knows exactly what the form looks like.

 _According to our records, you are an_ **_intellectual_ ** _and your 21_ _st_ _birthday is in 30 days. Please check the box below if you would like to change your status to_ **_lover._ ** _You must submit this form_ **_before or on your birthday_ ** _. Otherwise, you will remain an_ **_intellectual._ **

**_Please note there are_ ** **_no exceptions_ ** **_to the deadline._ **

_If you have any questions, do not hesitate to contact us._

That’s it. A major life decision that fits on half a piece of letterhead.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Isak says, which is true. He watches Chris with Mutta, completely carefree and happy, and thinks that it must be such a fucking relief to just be yourself. He doesn’t spend as much time with Even as he wants to because they only get so many opportunities to be alone. He couldn’t tell his mom: _This is Even, my boyfriend._ But, at the same time….

“I’ve worked so hard, though,” Isak says. “And I want the job I’ve worked for.”

“I understand,” she says. “Believe me, I understand. I’m on your side no matter what, Isak. I can keep your secrets if I have to.”

Isak smiles and says what he’s learned to say more. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

It is, of course, the ideal to have his mom’s unconditional support, but it doesn’t exactly help Isak’s decision-making process. Other than Chris, he doesn’t know anyone else who’s become a lover Despite her birthday still being months away, Sana is solid in her decision to remain an intellectual, though she has changed her career path from surgeon to defense lawyer. And it’s not like it’s stopped whatever she has with Yousef; Isak’s only seen them get closer.

But, Isak does know someone else he can talk to.

When he approaches Vilde, she’s mid-conversation with Eva, both of whom greet him with warm smiles and hugs.

“I feel like we’re in high school again, being at your place,” Eva says. “It’s nice.”

“It’s really nice,” Isak agrees. “Can I talk to Vilde for a second?”

Eva glances between them. “Will you two murder each other unsupervised?”

“Not with witnesses,” Vilde says.

“Ok, I’ve done my due diligence then,” Eva says. “I should find Jonas, anyway. He was waiting on a call from his lawyer.”

Since writing an essay about how revolutions disrupt the system and he will absolutely never participate in one again as his get-out-of-jail-free card, Jonas has been arrested twice. Last time, the charges were dropped entirely because the police didn’t have reasonable grounds to arrest him for _disrupting the peace_ as they tried to. It’s the same charge this time, but now he’s looking at a fine and potentially some jail time because, well, he _did_ try to form a barricade on Main Street. It always worries Isak, but between Jonas’s lawyer, Sana, and Noora, Jonas always comes out ok in the end. It gives Isak faith that, despite how fucked up their legal system is, it’s still possible to find justice within it.

“Happy birthday,” Vilde says once Eva’s left them. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Yeah. I’m glad you came.”

Vilde smiles.

“Have you gotten your form yet?” Isak asks. Vilde’s birthday is within 30 days of his own.

“Uh, yeah. I haven’t opened it, though.”

“Me neither.”

Vilde raises her eyebrows. “What about…?”

She doesn’t say it, but ever since Magnus declared he was _tired of pretending everyone doesn’t know that you guys are fucking_ about him and Even, it’s been an open secret among their friends.

“It hasn’t stopped us yet.”

“That’s true. I feel bad about the whole thing because—I should want to be a lover, right? They’re the good guys?”

“I think the system’s taught us not to trust dichotomies like that.”

“Maybe I just don’t feel like I’m a good person, then.”

Isak shakes his head. “You’re trying to unlearn a lifetime of bullshit. I think you’re doing ok.”

“Even if I still want to work for the government?”

“Yeah, why not? You’re smart, and you care about people, and you’ve been on both sides of things. You get it, all of it. I want someone like you working for the government.”

And something clicks with Isak then, that among his friends and all their supporters, there’s an entire generation of people starting their careers that know the system is bullshit. Lovers have done so much of the groundwork, but they do not have the capital to make decisions the way intellectuals do. Society needs people like Jonas to block the streets and people like Sana to defend them when they do. And maybe one day, it’ll understand that lovers like Jonas can still be smart enough to defend themselves, and that intellectuals like Sana can love as fierce as anyone.

Isak certainly can, and he’s reminded of that when Even interrupts his conversation with Vilde. “So sorry,” he says. “But can I steal the birthday boy?”

Vilde lets them go, and Isak leads Even to his bedroom, closing the door behind them. Though there’s no one at the party they need to hide from, sometimes it’s nice to be alone anyway.

“Hey,” Isak says, wrapping his arms around Even’s waist.

“Hi.”

“I missed you.”

“Oh yeah? What happened to ‘You saw me yesterday?’”

“I guess I remembered your undeniable charm and wit.”

Even smiles as he leans in for a kiss, long and sweet, only breaking it to reach behind Isak’s dresser. He pulls out a large present, handing it to Isak with an even bigger grin. “For you.”

“When the fuck did you hide this in my room?”

“I have my ways. Now come on, open it.”

Picking up on Even’s energy, Isak takes his time unwrapping it, earning a loud sigh from his boyfriend. Halfway through, Isak realizes what it is, and can’t keep up the act anymore. He rips the rest of the wrapping paper off, revealing a painting with two hands linked together. No ID bracelets.

“It’s our hands,” Isak says.

“Yeah.”

“Mikael’s going to be pissed.”

“He’ll get over it.”

Isak smiles. “I’m going to stay an intellectual.”

“Yeah. I figured.”

“Because it doesn’t really matter, right? I mean, I know the system still exists, and we might not see its end our in lifetime. I get that. ­But like, I have a bunch of friends in my home. I have you, and I just—I fucking love you, Even.”

Even laughs. “I fucking love you, too.”

“So I think you were right, in that first love class. Love hasn’t ended the system—”

“Yet.”

“Yet. But, it is ending divides.”

And for Isak, it’s ended the divide within himself.

He knows now that there’s nothing wrong with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Bri's tumblr: [@brionbroadway](http://brionbroadway.tumblr.com)  
> Rino's tumblr: [@evenshands](http://evenshands.tumblr.com/)


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